The Only Chance
by Belle Vita
Summary: Jate AU. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: When Kate sets out to find her biological father, she's met with the promise that they won't know each other for long. When Sam refuses to fight his disease any longer, Kate becomes obsessed with finding a cure. Her research leads her to the only surgeon willing to operate on her father. Kate faces losing the father she's just found while trying to resist the distraction a relationship with Sam's doctor could bring. Some things are never easy-- including matters of the heart.

Jate AU. Sam is Kate's biological father, not Wayne. Wayne conveniently never existed. Sam is a construction contractor based in LA, not a Sergeant. Why? Because I can, and because that fits the Sam I have in mind better.

First chapter is a lot of set up, but you have to build from something. :) Reviews, please! They're especially helpful in the beginning of stories so I know what to weave in through the rest of the chapters.

**Chapter 1**

Lost and Found

Ever since she could remember, Kate wanted to meet her father. Her biological father, the one who had been absent from her life, who she had never seen a picture of, who was shrouded in mystery, and it was this mystery, perhaps, that led her to search for him.

At first he was untraceable, and Kate regretted not pushing her mother for more information about him before her death the previous year. It seemed there were too many Sam Austens out there to narrow down the results. Only after many weeks of near relentless searching did she come up with a lead. He was in Los Angeles, working as a construction contractor.

Minus living in LA, he didn't seem nearly as glamorous as she'd wanted to believe. When she was little, she imagined he was a movie star—dashing good looks, a flashy smile—who had swept her mother off her feet, however brief their relationship had been.

Kate was never able to get it out of her mother, and the story behind how she was conceived was surely an awkward one at that, but Kate always figured she was the product of a one night stand, that maybe Sam was just passing through whatever dingy diner in whatever dingy town Diane was working in at the time. Maybe he'd flashed that smile Kate had always dreamed about, ordered some coffee and a slice of pie, and invited her back to his motel room.

Or maybe not.

"M'am?" Kate vaguely heard. "_M'am?_" the flight attendant asked again, her patience pressed. "Water, juice, soda, what'll it be?"

Kate's attention snapped to woman, her eyes still downcast, before murmuring, "Nothing, thanks."

The woman moved on to the person seated next to Kate, handing the young, old, man, woman—Kate wasn't sure, she hadn't been able to pay attention to anything in anticipation of her visit—a bag of pretzels and pouring some Coke into a short plastic cup.

The flight from Des Moines to LA wasn't particularly long, and two hours after the flight attendant had passed by, the flight was landing.

She'd bought the ticket on a whim—a product of one of those internet travel sites—and now that she was there, in the middle of LAX, in the middle of someplace completely unfamiliar with only a carry-on bag and a rolling suitcase, she wasn't sure what to do, or where to go.

She swallowed back the lump that was forming quickly in her throat, tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Ever since her mother had died, she hadn't been able to keep her emotions in check. It wasn't even that she was sad anymore. She still missed her mother, of course, but her life had gone on. She thought of her every day, that bubbly, loving mother she'd had, who had come across just a little too much bad luck during her short life. As cliché as it sounded, something inside her just wasn't the same.

It would've been a better idea to make some sort of contact with Sam Austen before barging in on his life, she thought as she hailed a cab, directing the driver to go to the nearest moderately priced hotel. How would _she _feel if someone from her past, someone that she'd never even met, showed up and claimed to be a relative?

"This okay?" the driver asked as he pulled into a Holiday Inn. "Pretty close to the city, don't know where you're going though," he said.

It looked safe enough, and cheap enough considering the part of California she was in. She had no idea how long she'd be there, or if she would even have the courage to find Sam.

"It's fine," she told the driver, tipping him generously, feeling bad for staying so quiet for the whole ride.

Why LA? she wondered after she checked in, slipping the key card in the door to her room—168, fourth floor, she noted for future reference—had he grown up somewhere around here, or was he like half the city, a transplant?

After calling the front desk for the hotel's wireless password, Kate pulled her laptop from her carry-on. Without it, she doubted tracking down Sam would be very easy, and even with it, she wondered if the magical powers of the internet could rescue her.

There was something slightly creepy about searching for a person's whereabouts online, but seeing no other alternative, she continued her quest, eventually coming across Ross Construction, with the name 'Sam Austen' in bold lettering.

A picture of him on the company website stared back at her. Maybe she expected warm, paternal feelings to rise in her, but she felt no different. She had no connection to this man, but she was here in LA to change that.

The loss of her mother had brought about the strong urge to track down her biological father. With virtually no male figures in her life while growing up, she'd often wondered if she really was missing out on something vital.

Kate's relationships with men had been rocky to say the least. At thirty, she'd never been in a relationship that she considered remotely successful. Maybe she was deeply flawed, or maybe, just maybe, not having a father around had been more detrimental than she thought.

Convinced that she'd found the right Sam, Kate scribbled down the address of Ross Construction, and prayed that he'd be there the next day when she went to check it out.

* * *

"Sam Austen? Tall guy? Blondish-brown hair?" a construction worker asked her. He was the first soul she'd met at the Ross Construction offices. "Haven't seen him in awhile. Go ask Tony over there. Guy with the glasses."

When she tracked down Tony, he threw her a furtive glance after she asked him about Sam.

"He's on vacation, probably will be for some time," the man told her. "Why do you care?"

"Just trying to catch up," Kate lied, hoping that her thin disguise wasn't _too_ thin.

Tony cocked his eyebrow. "You don't seem the type to be 'catching up'," he laughed gruffly.

Instantly annoyed, Kate tried not to let the irritation show. "Do you know where he is, or can you send me in the right direction?"

He seemed to think over her request, before leading her over to his desk. "Listen, we're not supposed to do this, but let me give you his address. You seem alright. Family or something?"

"No," Kate spit out quickly, and changing the subject, said, "I thought he was on vacation?"

Tony shrugged. "The guy's not going anywhere, trust me. Just don't tell him who sent you."

* * *

After getting directions from Tony and finally managing to hail a cab, Kate stood outside the door that her father potentially was behind. From the outside the building looked decent enough; exactly what she expected for a construction contractor.

The inside was dimly lit, and before she could think any longer and convince herself to turn around and fly back to Iowa, she knocked soundly three times.

As she waited outside for an answer, she told herself that the worst that could happen was that Sam wouldn't want anything to do with her. And why should that be a big deal? You couldn't lose something if you never had it in the first place.

Suddenly the door swung open. "Yeah?" the man asked, and Kate was taken aback. He was definitely the Sam Austen from the picture she'd seen on the Ross Construction website, but his features were gaunt, his face pale. His short hair somehow managed to be stringy, the color hard to describe, but slightly resembled dirty dishwater.

"Oh—" Kate started, not sure what to say now that she was face to face with Sam Austen. "Are you Sam?" she asked dumbly, feeling her face flame.

He nodded in affirmation. "I don't want anything," he sighed. "Try Mary next door. She'll buy anything."

"I'm not selling anything," she tried again. "I'm here to see you."

Sam cocked his head back. "See what? Not trying to be rude or anything, but do we know each other?"

Kate shook her head. "We've never met. I actually—I don't know how to say this exactly, but I think you might've known my mom?"

She thought her explanation was a bit more subtle than telling this stranger she thought he might be her father.

"Know a lot of people," he replied. "What's this about?"

She supposed the only way to continue was with the story of Diane's death. "My mom died last year and I'm trying to tie up some loose ends. I guess it's my way of coping, and I'm sorry if it's weird but I had to find you."

Sam rubbed his tired face with a palm. "What, did I help build her house or something?"

Kate wanted to scream that he'd never done anything for them, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. While she loved her mother more than anyone in the world, she had never pretended not to be flighty.

"Diane Jansen ring any bells?"

"Where we talking? LA?"

Kate shrugged. "Not sure. She moved around a lot. I think you would've met her in the late '70s. Lifelong blonde, on the tall side, thin."

"Diane Jansen, huh? Did she happen to be obsessed with poppyseed muffins?"

Tears sprang to Kate's eyes and she knew that she'd found her father. Her mother had an unnatural love for lemon poppyseed muffins, and Kate could clearly remember numerous mornings being woken to the smell of them baking in the tiny kitchen.

"Yeah," she bit out, "that was her."

"Poppy," he muttered, shaking his head. "She's really gone?"

"Cancer," Kate told him, taking in Sam's use of 'Poppy' as a nickname for Diane, wondering how many other things she might learn about her mother if she hung around with Sam long enough.

"Cancer," Sam dwelled, shutting his eyes as if to block it out. "It's a sonofabitch isn't it?"

Wringing her hands together, a nervous habit of she never managed to get rid of, Kate took a step forward, surprised when Sam opened the door further in invitation.

"Can you remember when you met her?" she asked hopefully.

It seemed that even trying to produce memories from his past took a toll on the older man, made him appear more tired than the average person. After a while, he finally spoke.

"It was the year the Cowboys won the Super Bowl, so… 1978?"

"Again, I don't know exactly how to say this, and I want to put it out there that it's okay if you want nothing to do with me, and I know that this is random and I'm not asking you for anything, or expecting anything from you, but I think—"

"That I'm your father?" Sam interrupted her, raising his eyebrows.

Suddenly Kate felt shy. "Well, yeah. I mean, all my mother ever told me was that your name was Sam Austen, and putting two and two together from when I was born… well, you kind of have to be, don't you?"

"Why don't you come in," Sam said, and Kate walked into the sparse apartment. "Wondered why she took off like that. We were only together about a month, you know, then next thing I know, _poof_, she's gone. Never saw her again."

Grateful that Sam seemed to be taking the news in stride, Kate let herself relax a little bit, though she still sat stiffly in the armchair, waiting for something else to upturn her world. Hearing stories about her mother was fascinating, but she wasn't sure what else she was in store for.

"So you're not surprised by this?"

Sam tried to chuckle but produced an airy cough instead. "Kinda relieved actually. 'Least now I know what the hell went wrong all those years ago."

"Wrong?" Kate frowned.

He put a hand up in apology. "Well, you know what I mean."

"I'm not sure what I came out here for, maybe just to meet you, see what you're like, and I'm not sure what to do with myself now that this is over with…"

Sam succeeded in chuckling this time. "You could start by telling me your name. Might need to know that."

Kate blushed, embarrassed that she'd managed to pour her heart out to this relative stranger and introduce herself as his daughter without mentioning her name.

"Kate," she said bashfully. "I'm Kate."

"Guess you are. Wouldn't know any different," he said thoughtfully.

When she couldn't think of anything else to say, Kate thought back to the conversation she had with Tony earlier. "The guy I talked to at Ross Construction, he said that you're on vacation and that you might be for awhile…"

"Yeah," Sam started. "About that. Look Kate, I'm real glad you took the time to track me down and you seem like you turned out pretty well, but I think we started this a little too late."

Kate frowned, her forehead creasing in confusion. "Too late for what?"

"Vacation is just a nice term they're using over there for my permanent absence. Been out for a month."

"I don't—"

"I got cancer, Kate. In my back, spreading god knows where. Said they can't do much anymore," he said with a shrug that showed Kate he'd accepted his diagnosis long ago. "I know we've just met and I don't want to scare you away, but I figured you at least deserve to know after all you went through to get out here."

The dread she subconsciously expected was now coursing through her body. Though she hardly knew the man, she didn't want him taken away so fast, without much of a chance to get to know him.

"You mean to say," she started, choosing her words delicately, "that you're dying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

* * *

Up next: Kate does some research, and maybe meets a certain doctor?


	2. The Power of Might

Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you all seem to like the premise even if this is only the set up of the story. I know that building the story slowly won't be the best way to get reviews, but I decided that I'm going to adhere to my planned plot as closely as possible and try not to care if the number of reviews flucuates! I'm trying to build characters and a plot that doesn't completely center around Jack and Kate, though later in the story they'll be more prominent. I'm sure this'll be harder than it sounds, but there's a first time for everything. With every story I try to improve, and this is the only way I see that happening.

Sorry for the rant, but enjoy the chapter. Leave a review if you're feeling nice today!

* * *

Chapter Two

The Power of Might

When Kate's mother had told her she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, Kate was stunned, not sure what to do or how to help. No matter how many good wishes and prayers she made to a God she had never believed existed, Kate was pretty sure that none of it would help. The power of positive thinking was a complete myth—how could prayer and good will stop cancer cells from multiplying, ravaging her mother's body until they took the hope out of her?

Neither could, and neither did. All the proof necessary was lying in a coffin, and a cheap one at that because of the piling medical bills, buried beneath six feet of dirt in a small town in Iowa.

It was all scientific, she told herself, and only the drugs and the chemotherapy and the radiation could even come close to fixing her.

Kate couldn't say she was shocked by Sam's admission that he had cancer. The man _looked _like a disease was wrecking his body. His skin and hair were dulled, and his haunted eyes showed that he'd given up fighting.

She was looking at a dying man, and he just happened to be her father, the man she'd just met and felt connected to for no good reason.

Hearing the same type of news for the second time in her life—that one of her parents had cancer—made it no easier, and still elicited no immediate response. Maybe the flaw wasn't just with her. Maybe, she thought, there just _isn't _a right thing to say.

"I know it's not, or at least I hope it's not what you wanted to hear, but there's no sense in me hiding the truth from you. You woulda figured it out pretty quick I think," Sam told her, shuffling awkwardly behind the coffee table, wringing his hands together in the same way Kate noticed she did.

"You think that this," Kate motioned to the two of them, "would've gone beyond today? This one meeting?"

The older man suddenly appeared flustered. "Well—I guess—I guess I just thought that's why you came out here. To get to know me. Convince yourself you weren't missing out on much."

Kate smirked despite how uncomfortable she was. "There wasn't much planning behind any of this," she admitted. "To be honest, I never expected that I would have enough courage to come find you, and I didn't expect you to be _nice _about it."

Sam cocked his head back and Kate saw the first hint of a smile. "No sense in being angry about things anymore. Not when your life takes a turn like this." He sat down on the far end of the couch. "Besides, if it doesn't work out between us I won't be around for long anyway."

"It's not funny," Kate said, her voice steady. "I'll admit that I hardly know you and I definitely have no right to feel this way, but I don't think I can handle this again… losing another parent."

"I've hardly been a parent, Kate. And I didn't even know you existed until 20 minutes ago. Don't worry about an old guy like me. Don't make this harder on yourself than it needs to be."

Kate leaned forward, filled with what she could only identify as mild disgust for this man's laissez-faire take on life.

"So you want me to leave," she stated, "because I shouldn't have to go through this?"

"You don't deserve it," Sam said, and the two held eye contact for what felt like a minute.

If the situation wasn't so awkward already, Kate would have laughed. "And _you _do?"

There was nothing Sam could tell her that would convince Kate he had explored all of his treatment options. If he didn't care, then she would have to care enough for the both of them.

"Who's your oncologist? Who's the one who told you there's nothing else you can do? I wanna meet this doctor, hear it for myself."

Sam grimaced and debated telling Kate to leave, but thirty years of guilt he never knew he was supposed to feel was quickly catching up to him. The least he could do was to humor her. She _had _come all the way out here; she might as well get her money's worth.

"This might sound insensitive, but why on earth do you care whether I live or die?"

Kate's eyebrows furrowed together and Sam knew that he had upset her.

"Excuse me, but some people, such as myself, have an inane sympathy toward other humans," she said sarcastically. "Might as well have someone fight for you if you don't give a shit yourself."

"That's exactly it though. There's nothing _left _to fight for. I've accepted it, Kate."

"I haven't. Not yet, and I'm pretty convinced you're not telling me everything. Just give me the names of your doctors and let me get in touch with them, and if, like you say, there's nothing more you can do, I'll back off, leave you be. But if there's even the slightest chance that you can get healthy again, I'm finding a way to make it happen, and you're gonna go through with it."

Sam laughed, somewhere deep down admiring her courage though frustrated with the change of plans. "That sounds like a threat."

Kate took in his chuckle and decided to play along. "It is."

* * *

"Sam never mentioned he had a daughter," the man who had introduced himself as Dr. Robert Ruane said.

Kate sidetracked the question, feeling that the long-winded explanation of their reunion was neither necessary nor appropriate.

"I just found out about his diagnosis, and he tells me that there's nothing left to do. I just wanna know if this is true, or if he's so tired of fighting it that he's given up."

"I'm not authorized to give the details of his treatment over the phone, you know," the older man sighed. "But I can tell you that Sam isn't lying. It doesn't sound like you two are close, but hey, if there's anything you ever wanted to say to the man, I'd say it soon."

Dr. Ruane hung up abruptly, leaving Kate feeling like the wind was knocked out of her.

Since Sam had two treating doctors, Kate decided to ignore the bad news for the time being and call the other. She had left Sam a little over an hour ago. The man looked a little relieved, but still smiled when she told him she'd return that night, if it was okay. He nodded and asked what she wanted for dinner. It was all a little strange.

"Dr. Holland's office," a chirpy-voiced receptionist answered, "this is Valerie."

After briefly explaining the situation to Valerie, Kate waited for over five minutes on hold, until an impatient sounding woman held the phone to her ear with an exasperated, "This is Dr. Holland."

Just as Dr. Ruane had, Dr. Holland found Kate and Sam's situation strange, once again mentioning she had no idea of Sam having a daughter.

"Look, I get that you're trying to help your father, but in my professional opinion there aren't any viable treatment options left. I don't know what else to tell you other than to cherish the time you have left together."

Kate winced at the obvious line, but continued to question her. "In your _professional opinion_, is there anyone else I can go to for another view?"

"That wouldn't be honoring your father's wishes," Dr. Holland stressed. "We discussed the option of removing the tumor from the spine, but now that it's metastasized and gone to the liver, even that type of surgery would yield very little result. Spinal tumors are rare; the fact that his was malignant is even rarer. Your father's tumor metastasized through the arteries, and there's no telling where it's going next—"

"But you're saying that it might be possible to remove the spinal tumor and treat the liver cancer separately?"

Dr. Holland let out a frustrated groan. "It might be _possible_, yes, but highly improbable. Getting to two different tumor sites in such a short period of time and doing two different treatments is very risky, and the chances of it benefiting him are slim. Are you sure that this is what you want? This might make things harder on Sam, when I know very well that he's accepted—"

"That he's going to die?" Kate interjected. "You're saying that there's a small chance, and Sam promised me that he'd take it if I found it for him. I know you don't agree with me, but it's not your job to form opinions about me; your job is to treat Sam to the best of your abilities," Kate ended, surprised at her own insistence. "So can you tell me what the next step is? What should I be doing?"

After a long pause thick with tension, Dr. Holland spoke again. "You need to find an oncologist to treat the liver cancer—"

"What about you?"

"I can't, with a good conscience, continue to treat your father unless I speak with him and I really believe this is what he wants."

Her words stung, and Kate wondered for a moment what she was really getting herself into. What she was getting Sam into.

Dr. Holland continued. "Then you need to find a surgeon who is specialized in spinal operations. And good luck finding one who's willing to remove a tumor from such an unmanageable location on the vertebrae."

Kate closed her eyes and bit her tongue; she wouldn't get anywhere from yelling. "Can you give me a recommendation then?"

She heard files shuffling and the line cracking. "Go see Jeffrey Samson for the liver. He's too nice for his own good. I'll send over your father's files and see if he'll take him on. I don't think you'll have any problems with that. But tell your father to call me. Like I said, if this radical treatment is what he really wants, then I'm more than glad to be a part of it."

Kate scribbled down the brief information so she could do some research on the internet. "And for the spinal tumor?"

Dr. Holland sighed again. "If I'm being honest, I really doubt that any doctor will want to take Sam's case."

"But who's the best shot? There's gotta be someone."

"Jack Shephard," Dr. Holland said. "Young, upcoming surgeon with more experience than you'd think and one serious god-complex. He might not be able to help himself."

He certainly didn't sound like Sam's best option, but trusting Dr. Holland's opinion on the matter, she wrote down the information. Kate thanked her.

"Don't get your hopes up, okay?" Dr. Holland said. "I only said that he might consider it."

Kate looked down at Jack Shephard's name, circling it over and over with her pen. "All I need is a might."

* * *

Up next: Kate meets a certain handsome doctor ;) and tries to convince Sam to go through with treatment.


	3. Vital Importance

Thanks for the reviews.

* * *

Chapter Three

Vital Importance

"Please? It's really important that I speak with Dr. Shephard."

Kate was nearly to the point of begging. It was the second day in a row that she'd called his office, only to be told that he doesn't take appointments without referrals.

"Like I told you, Dr. Shephard doesn't accept phone calls of this nature. He has a very busy schedule and is in high demand. If you can get a referral, call us back to make an appointment," the receptionist had told her. Kate was hoping that if she called back today, she might get a hold of a nicer receptionist, but she had no such luck. They were both well trained in phone etiquette. The office must get calls with people begging them for appointments all the time, Kate thought.

Dr. Holland still hadn't returned her call about referring Sam to Dr. Shephard. When Kate asked the receptionist at Dr. Shephard's office, she said that they hadn't received any files about Sam, even though Kate remembered that Dr. Holland promised she would send them.

At first Dr. Jack Shephard hadn't seemed like the logical choice. He was young, a little hotheaded and very choosy with his patients. But then Kate had turned to the magic of the internet, and found out why this guy was so hard to get to. A number of his surgeries produced near miracles, and gave Kate the hope that he could do something for Sam, too.

If only she could reach out to him. Kate was prepared to deliver a whole sob story if necessary: "But he's my father, and I just found him and he told me that he's dying. You're the only one who can give him a chance to survive. All I've ever wanted was a father! Are you going to take that away from me?"

There were several variations; she hadn't decided which one to use yet, but hoped she didn't have to.

However, after more searching, Kate had located where exactly Dr. Shephard worked. If he wouldn't take her phone calls, then it was time for an office visit.

* * *

Dr. Shephard's office was tucked into the surgical wing of St. Sebastian's Hospital. Before arriving, Kate thought it would look more imposing, but if anything, it mirrored images she had seen on medical dramas.

The floor was shiny white, the walls painted a soft green color. It all looked fine, but the moment she stepped inside the unmistakable scent of hospital overwhelmed her. Kate hadn't been inside one since her mother had died, but in her quest to track down Dr. Shephard, she hadn't even thought of the possible flashbacks.

But now, here it was, flooding her nostrils with a smell she could only associate with death, and toward the end, suffering. She was here, she had to remind herself, to do the right thing for Sam. Her personal feelings weren't of importance—only Sam's life was.

The receptionist gave her a friendly smile when she approached the desk. Just wait, Kate thought. She read the nametag attached to the blonde's sweater. Pamela—the two had spoken only an hour before.

"Does Dr. Shephard happen to have a spare minute?"

Pamela blinked. "Do you have an appointment? Because he's out to lunch right now so he shouldn't be seeing anyone." She looked to the computer screen and Kate could see her scroll down.

"Uh, no, I don't. I was just hoping to speak with him quickly. When's he supposed to be back?"

Pamela raised her eyebrows. "M'am, I'm sorry, but you'll have to make an appointment. Are you a patient of his?"

"No," Kate said quickly, averting her eyes to the office down the hall that had his nameplate on the outside. The door was open. He wouldn't have left it open had he really gone to lunch, right? "I know he's still here," she tried, seeing Pamela flinch minutely. "I'm an old friend of his," she lied. "From high school. Can you tell him Kate from high school is here to see him?"

Kate hoped that this could be one of those situations where it panned out to have an ordinary name.

"Kate who?"

"Shit," Kate mumbled, before gathering herself. "Smith?"

Kate Smith was generic enough, and before she could stop it or consider that it wasn't the right situation, she thought of the fact that Sam still didn't know she'd grown up with his last name. For thirty years the only attachment to Sam she had was the name Austen.

Praying that her excuse would gain her a moment of face time with the sought out doctor, Kate pleaded with Pamela. "My sister is a patient down in the ER right now, and someone mentioned Dr. Shephard's name and I just had to come see him. I'm just visiting, you see. I'd love to catch up and get his information. So I can stay in touch." She added a smile to the end, hoping to convince Pamela how serious she was.

It helped that she and Dr. Shephard had to be around the same age, and that Pamela wasn't clever enough to ask her any questions.

"He's really not in at the moment." She looked at Kate with a pregnant pause. "But since you're an old friend, I can give you his email if you'd like."

Beggars can't be choosers, Kate reminded herself, but she doubted that having his email address would be all that helpful. Emails were too easy to ignore.

"Thanks so much, but do you possibly have a phone number for him? I'm only in town until tomorrow afternoon and I'd love to catch him before then. Plus, I don't have internet access until I head back home."

Kate had to admit that she was a fantastic liar, especially for being on the spot. Whether or not that was such a good thing, she couldn't decide.

Pamela hesitated, and Kate suspected that she was beginning to doubt her story. "Please?" she asked, softer this time. "It would mean a lot to me. We were such good friends and we've just lost touch over the years."

Finally Pamela scrawled down a number on the back of a business card that already contained his email. "That's his cell. He'd kill me if he knew I gave it to you, so you better be who you say you are."

Kate smiled and snatched the card from Pamela's hand before the blonde could change her mind. "Thank you so much, Pamela. I'm sure he's going to be thrilled to hear from me."

* * *

"Kate, hi," Sam said and opened the door to her.

Truth be told, it was all still awkward, but the last thing Kate wanted was to be scared of having a relationship with Sam, even if he was dying, even if the relationship might not last long.

"There's some snacks over on the counter and help yourself—"

"I think I found you a surgeon," Kate said breathlessly. "Do you mind if I use my laptop?"

Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Better tell me what's going on."

Kate explained her conversations with his two doctors, and that even though the two opinions differed, Dr. Holland had given him a chance.

"So you've already made me an appointment with this Dr. Shephard?" He looked mad almost, and Kate wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to piss him off already. "You mean well, but this just isn't what I want."

Despite her previous insecurity, Kate rolled her eyes. "So I've been told. I don't even have an appointment yet. He's really hard to get into."

"Fate," Sam grumbled.

"Just humor me, why don't you?" Kate snapped. "What if he can help you but you won't even take the chance? I _know _that you've given up and maybe that's fine for you but it's not fine for me. I came all the way out here and I'm hit with this and I'm doing something about it. What the hell do you have to lose? You're the one who's walking around like you're already dead!"

Sam's eyes hardened momentarily, before he let out a tense, "Fine. I'll go if you can manage to get an appointment."

Kate was silent and stared at the carpet. She hadn't thought it would be that easy to convince him. "I think we just survived our first fight."

Sam walked back to the kitchen and began tearing a head of lettuce. "Looks like it."

Not letting their little tiff bother her longer than it ought to, she pulled out her laptop, powered it on and searched in her bag for the business card Pamela had given her. For several minutes, she fiddled with the wording of her email to Dr. Shephard. She figured a brief introduction might be better than bombarding him with a call on his personal phone.

Satisfied enough, she pressed send. Then she waited.

* * *

Patience was no virtue for Kate; hearing nothing from Jack in the few hours after she sent her email, at a time she figured he would check it, she'd sent four more, each with a different, begging, tone.

Today she would call.

Deciding to leave Sam alone for the day—she didn't want her presence to be _too _much—she moseyed around the hotel before it progressed to a tense pace, while she debated whether or not to call Dr. Shephard.

Her resolve held only until noon, when she figured that he may be at lunch and more likely to answer his phone.

Punching ten numbers that belonged to the only and only Dr. Jack Shephard into her cell phone, she waited, holding her breath. It rang six times before his voicemail picked up.

At first disappointed, her attention was again grabbed at the sound of his voice. It was sort of deep, tired sounding, but without the nerdy, uptight tone she expected from a man who was so admired at such a young age.

So entranced by his voice, Kate was surprised by the beep that signaled her to begin her message.

"Um, hi Dr. Shephard. Um, this is Kate. I emailed you yesterday. Kate Austen, I mean. My name is Kate Austen. And I haven't heard back from you about my father… anyway I was just wondering if you thought about taking an appointment with him? His name is Sam Austen and I really want to meet with you to discuss his options. Please let me know."

She babbled on further, eventually giving him her number and pleading with him to call her back.

He didn't, at least not during the next two hours, and Kate wondered if all hope was lost. She pored over information on other area spinal surgeons, but none of them were quite as willing to perform such risky elective surgeries.

She'd never felt so desperate in her entire life, and she called three more times, leaving other rambling messages.

Just when she'd gone off to the aquarium on the recommendation from the concierge, hoping that it would take her mind off things for a bit, she felt her phone vibrating.

It was him.

"Hello?"

"You sound a little bashful considering how frantic your messages were."

His voice was smooth just like the voicemail greeting, but he sounded more confident live.

"Dr. Shephard?"

"Kate Austen?" he asked in a similar tone, and Kate wondered if his tone was professional enough.

"Umm, yeah." Now that she was speaking with the man of the hour, for some reason she couldn't spit the words out.

"Ahh, to hear the voice of my stalker."

Kate froze, gazing into the aquamarine in front of her, unsure if he was joking. "That's not what I meant to do, it's just that I couldn't get an appointment and I just wanted a chance for Sam—"

"Speaking of your father," he interrupted, "his files were sent over just a few minutes ago, and now that I have a referral, you can set up an appointment with the receptionists."

Kate wanted to tell him that perhaps he should think twice about who he hired to work the appointment counter, given that Pamela had handed out his personal information after a pretty unbelievable lie.

"So I—"

"Did all that begging for nothing? Yeah," he said, and Kate laughed. "That funny?"

"I'm just relieved, that's all. I was beginning to think I came all the way out here for nothing."

She stared at the sea turtle floating through the water and pondered Dr. Shephard's personality. There was something mysterious about him, something that inanely piqued her curiosity.

"All the way out here? From where?"

"Iowa," Kate said. "I actually just tracked down Sam and told him that he's my father. We just met two days ago."

Right after it had shot from her mouth, Kate flushed with embarrassment at the reveal and wondered why their conversation was flowing like they were two friends catching up, instead of what they were: the daughter of a potential patient and a potential lifesaving surgeon.

Eventually Jack let out an, "Oh. That's intense," and Kate knew he was thinking the same thing.

An awkward silence fell over them before Jack jumped in.

"Well, Ms. Austen, I look forward to meeting you and your father."

Twirling a strand of her long brown locks through two fingers, she found herself smiling. "Please, call me Kate."

A shy chuckle came through the line. "Okay, Kate, I look forward to meeting you."

"And what about Sam?"

"Your father? Well, I guess if he has to come too, he can," he joked.

Kate figured it would be the only joke about Sam's illness that she could laugh at. "No, I mean, what do you think? From seeing his files?"

Jack sighed. "I can't discuss his medical records over the phone. I'm sorry. We'll talk about it when you come in."

"Thank you so much," Kate said. "For agreeing to see him. It means a lot."

"Persistence gets you places," he laughed again. "I'll see you when I see you?"

"Yeah," she agreed, slow to snap her phone shut, wondering if before they'd even met, if they hadn't already crossed a line.

* * *

Up next: A face to face meeting. Will sparks fly? ;)


	4. Expectations

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* * *

Chapter Four

Expectations

Sam's plan hadn't worked out the way he thought it might. Not that he'd had long to plan, since Kate's entrance into his life had been rather surprising. While it was nice to meet her, to identify a daughter he never knew he had, it didn't seem like it would be all that hard to get rid of someone when you told them you were dying.

Nothing says_ run, and quick!_ quite like that.

But Kate was stubborn, and though it had been thirty years since Sam last saw Diane—his Poppy—he thought back to her similar attitude, the way she carried herself and how she would never accept help from anyone. If he'd had any doubts that Kate was his daughter, they were all erased when she had stuck around after his announcement that he had terminal cancer.

For years he lived alone, only a few women here and there since Diane. This was mostly by choice, and he always told himself he was just meant to be a loner. Sam didn't much mind it, until he found out that he was only months away from the end of his life.

It seemed to him that there was something slightly pathetic about dying alone. He had irrational fears that no one would find him for days after his death, maybe weeks even, that he would rot away in his kitchen, that there would be no funeral or memorial, no obituary in the newspaper. He feared of not having a place in the world.

What was the point of living if he'd never done anything to be remembered by?

* * *

"Ready?" Kate asked Sam, her fists clenched in excitement, her nerves already getting to her. Of course, the three cups of coffee she'd downed after a terrible night's sleep probably hadn't helped either.

The previous night she tossed and turned in anticipation of Sam's appointment with Dr. Shephard. For one of the first times since arriving in LA, she didn't feel quite so weighed down. She wouldn't get her hopes up, she promised herself, but at least she'd know that she had done everything possible to help Sam. At least he would know she cared.

"Guess we've gotta get this over with sooner or later," he said gruffly, grabbing his coat from the rack beside the door. He noticed Kate glancing a little too long. It was rather warm out, he would admit, but nothing he did ever stopped the chills from running through him.

Though he protested when Kate insisted on driving him to the hospital, he eventually let her, thinking again of all the fights he and Diane had in their short relationship and how many of them would have been resolved if he'd only let her have her way.

_Life is about making sacrifices_ was his mantra, and as he sat in the passenger seat he repeated it over and over in his mind, to avoid getting worked up. After all, it was the only reason he had agreed with Kate and made the appointment to go see Dr. Shephard, even though he thought it was pointless. He was past the point of being saved.

Kate wanted to laugh when she and Sam walked into the reception area and were met by the smiling face of Pamela, the very receptionist who she had tricked earlier that week into giving her Dr. Shephard's contact information.

She chose not to give Pamela the chance to question her, and instead took a seat in the line of green plushy chairs, picking up a magazine to pass the time. Sam came back with a stack of papers that looked about an inch thick.

"Should be fun," he grumbled, but shook his head when Kate offered to help.

The bright, glossy pages of the women's magazine would have normally caught her attention, but the fact that she knew Dr. Shephard was only a matter of feet away brought back their phone conversation only a few days ago.

Over and over she had replayed it in her head, analyzing it and wondering what it all meant. He just didn't _sound _like a doctor. Nothing about their interaction suggested their relationship would be that of a doctor and the family member of a patient.

It made her a little nervous.

They both tapped their feet with anxiety, until finally, about 25 minutes after they took their seats in the waiting room, a nurse called them back. They followed her to a small office, sparsely decorated with navy walls, a dark cherry desk and black desk chair.

"Was expecting something a little fancier for a famous surgeon," Sam said, as if he could read her mind.

There was a quiet rap on the door frame. "Sorry to disappoint," the man said, striding forward confidently to shake Sam's hand. "Jack Shephard. Nice to finally meet you."

Something about the way Dr. Shephard shook Sam's hand made Kate take an instant like to him. There was nothing pitiful about it; Sam wasn't a china doll in his book, and Kate figured that Sam would appreciate it just the same. It would be nice for him to go through with all of this—the poking, the prodding, the complete lack of privacy—with some dignity intact.

Plus, he was nice to look at. Like seriously, ridiculously nice to look at.

If Kate hadn't been so aware of the fact that Dr. Shephard's eyes were on her, she was sure her shock would have been more apparent. He was tall, with the sort of build she expected from an athlete rather than a spinal surgeon, and cropped brown hair.

He wasn't what she expected.

His smile reached his eyes and he stuck his hand out to Kate. "We've kind of already met, I guess you could say. Jack Shephard."

Blindly, Kate grasped his hand. "Kate Austen. Nice—"

"Austen?" Sam interjected. "You never told me that."

Jack watched the two interact. He remembered Kate telling him that she and Sam had just met, and now he had no problem believing it.

Their conversation, out of the hundreds that he'd had over the past few days, would not get out of his head. He hadn't bantered like that with someone since… well, it had been a long time.

Kate rolled her eyes and looked to Jack. "We haven't had much time to get to know each other. I was too busy, oh you know, trying to get this appointment and convince _you_," she pointed to Sam, "not to just keel over and die."

Though he knew it wasn't professional and he hadn't built a relationship with either Sam or Kate, Jack let out a bark of laughter. It wasn't uncommon for a family member of a patient to have more hope for a miracle than the actual patient, but Kate's frankness was a little refreshing.

"Sorry," Sam told Jack, throwing Kate a look. "We have kind of a strange story."

"So I've heard," Jack said, glancing back to Kate, who blushed when reminded of her outburst on the phone. She had no business spilling her guts to a relative stranger.

She supposed there were two of those in the room.

Sam raised his eyebrows but didn't let on verbally. "So what do you think? Kate seems to have this idea that you can… I dunno, _rescue _me or something."

"You don't have to mock me," Kate said, sitting across from him, this time genuinely hurt.

Deciding to intervene before the situation got too out of hand, Jack set Sam's chart down on the counter loudly.

"The scans don't look good, I'll be honest. There's no way around that. Dr. Holland has told me that you plan to continue with the chemotherapy?"

Sam nodded. After a lengthy discussion with Dr. Holland, she'd agreed to keep him on as a patient and continue to oversee his chemotherapy.

"I spoke with her just before your appointment and your dose is going up. We're going to aggressively treat the tumors before I can even think about operating—"

Same held up his hand. "Listen Doc, all due respect, but I didn't say anything about an operation. I told Kate that I'd come see you and hear what you have to say, but don't pull the cart before the horse."

Jack looked to Kate, furrowing his brows. Just why the hell was this man here if he had no interest in being helped?

"No offense, but if this is going to be a waste of my time, and yours too," he pointed at Sam, "then maybe we should just leave it right here."

Kate stood up suddenly. "No! Sam, come on! Just hear him out, will you? I worked so hard to even get this guy to see you! I had to lie to the receptionist, who by the way Dr. Shephard, you might wanna think twice about, and now that you're face to face with a talented surgeon who's probably the only surgeon in a 300-mile radius willing to perform this surgery and you won't even think about taking advantage of it—"

"It's true," Jack shrugged. "You have a very persistent daughter, Mr. Austen. I couldn't say no to her."

Even Kate's reference to him as 'this guy' didn't bother Jack, but the confidence she seemed to have in him was somewhat unnerving. Sure, he was secure with his own skills, but Sam's case was tough. The chances were slim of him making a full recovery when his tumors weren't limited to just the spine.

"I can't stand much more of this," Sam finally said. "The chemo, all of these visits to the hospital. It's plain exhausting."

Kate stared down at her lap, unsure of what she could possibly say to Sam. She had to admit that he was right; he _had _only promised that he would go to the appointment.

Jack rolled his chair back from his desk, sighing. Facing Sam and Kate, he scribbled down a few notes on his chart. For a moment he imagined himself as a psychiatrist rather than a spinal surgeon.

"Unfortunately I've seen a lot of cases like yours," Jack started, before deciding to feign much more confidence than he actually had, and then leaning toward Sam with his elbows on his knees. "I can get this tumor out, Mr. Austen, but only if you let me."

_Life is about making sacrifices, _Sam thought again. But how far would this go before he sacrificed himself?

Eventually he nodded, meeting Kate's eyes but directing his words to Jack. "You can call me Sam."

* * *

Kate waited outside while Jack examined Sam. Jack had explained that he and Dr. Holland had set up a schedule for Sam, hoping that in a few weeks the tumor on his spine will have shrunk enough for Jack to perform a viable operation.

It was the best the situation could be, Kate thought, and considered that Dr. Shephard's manners toward her father made them both comfortable. For all of the man's talents, she expected him to be an asshole.

When Jack led Sam out of the exam room, he went with him to reception and handed Pamela the chart, commenting on his notes.

"Ms. Austen, wait up," he called to Kate, stopping her in the hallway.

She whipped her head around. "It's Kate, please."

"We're going to see him back in a week, check the progress of the tumor and I'll do another examination."

Kate nodded. "Okay. And I meant to thank you, for saving me in there. I just want him to explore all of his options but I'm starting to doubt myself a little bit."

Jack nodded. "Well, I'm on your side. It'll be a very complicated surgery, but I'm… I'm willing to take a chance if he is."

Folding her arms across her chest, Kate forced a small smile. "I'll keep working on him in the meantime."

She noticed Sam was done in the lobby, waiting patiently. She gave Jack a nod and turned around.

"Hey… Kate? You coming next week? With your father?"

His forwardness surprised her, and she fought the blush that was creeping to her cheeks. While they were flirting with the lines of professionalism, she couldn't decide what else it was.

But whatever it was, she decided, it needed to take a backseat to the wellbeing of Sam.

"Yeah," she smiled. "I'll be here."

He smiled back— shyly, Kate determined—and the poise he had so casually displayed during the office visit wavered for just a moment.

"Good."

Well, maybe a _little _distraction wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Up next: Kate and Sam get to know each other a little better. :)


	5. Excuses

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* * *

Chapter Five

Excuses

Though it was a little ridiculous, Kate had noticed from their first meeting that Jack wasn't wearing a wedding ring. But what was even more ridiculous, she thought at least, was that he was still on her mind three days after the office visit.

She'd never been the type to pine away after men. She'd never been boycrazy or lovestruck or fallen in love at first sight like all the movies said. And she almost never had boyfriends, not that she wasn't given the opportunity. It was just easier to push people away than to let them in.

Not that Kate had anything to hide. She'd had a fairly normal existence in her thirty years. It wasn't out of the ordinary anymore to grow up with only one parent. She and Diane had done just fine.

Sam sat awkwardly on the couch next to her, and flipped through the channels until he settled on ESPN.

"Like golf?" he asked, unsure of where to start the conversation. He'd insisted that Kate not spend all of her time in the hotel room, and had even invited her to stay with him, but she knew he was just being polite.

Kate shrugged. "It's alright, I guess. Never really got into sports."

She didn't mean to shut him out, but Sam leaned back into the couch and stared at the TV.

After their meeting with Dr. Shephard, Kate had tried to ask Sam what he thought, but Sam had shot her down, and she hadn't had the nerve to bring it back up.

"So…" she hesitated, fingering the fabric on the arm of the couch, thinking at the last moment that she should ask him about the rules of golf instead of accidentally upsetting him. "You're seeing Dr. Shephard again, right?"

"Tuesday," he mumbled, then took a breath and stopped short. "I'm doing this for you, you know," he said, and Kate could see that he was sincere, and even though they were new to each other, she was sure that had he known of her existence, Sam would have been a great father.

She gave him a small, sad smile. "I know."

"He seems like a good guy, Dr. Shephard."

"Yeah. I think so."

"So, what? You got a boyfriend back home?"

Kate blinked, fighting back the urge to widen her eyes and get the hell out of there. Could Sam read her mind? Did he sense something between her and Jack?

Instead she just shrugged. "Never been one for boyfriends," she said, letting out a laugh. It had always bothered her that she didn't have someone to lean on, but she never admitted it. She was too independent.

"So that's a no," Sam stated, rising slowly, weakly, from the couch and pulling a beer out of the fridge, popping the top of with skill.

"…Should you be drinking that?" Kate hadn't seen him eat anything for quite awhile, and he refused food every time she offered to make him something. His last chemo treatment had left him fatigued, and though he tried to hide it, she'd heard him getting sick in the bathroom several times. It made him uncomfortable; she could easily see that, to admit how sick he was in front of her, so she didn't mention it. Kate figured if there was something terribly wrong she would know.

He smirked. "Gotta live like you're dying."

Kate laughed despite the morbidity of his statement. He was rather wry given the chance. She wondered why he didn't have someone else by his side.

"And what about you? Any girlfriends I don't know about?"

He shook his head. "We're not talking about me."

"So that's a no," she repeated his statement and sunk back into the comfortable cushions. She liked this side of their relationship.

He laughed again, and Kate decided that it needed to happen more often.

Sam's awkward pause told Kate he was trying to muster up the courage to make her uncomfortable. It seemed to be a running theme in their new camaraderie. "Then what about Dr. Shephard? Jack? He doesn't wear a ring."

When she couldn't think of a witty reply, Kate simply let out a snort. "What? I haven't even _thought _about that," she lied. "And just because he's not wearing a ring doesn't mean that we should run off together into the sunset. I mean, we hardly know each other and I don't even know if he thinks of me like that, and I'm not looking for anything—"

Sam took a swig from his beer and shrugged. "You seem to have a lot of opinions for not even thinking about it."

* * *

Later that night, when Sam had been sick over and over, and had even complained to Kate about it, she felt she was out of options. He had been taking his medications as prescribed by Dr. Holland, but Kate was in no mood to speak with the opinionated doctor again.

Maybe she should just call Dr. Shephard.

Digging her cell phone out of her purse, she flipped through her addresses until she came across his personal number. She didn't think he'd mind the call.

He must have recognized her number, and Kate was overwhelmingly happy for a moment at the thought of him saving her information into his phone. "Kate, what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh… hi. Umm, I know that you're not an oncologist and you're not his treating doctor with the chemo, but Sam's really sick and feels worse than he has before, and I _really _don't wanna talk to that bitch Dr. Holland again—"

He cut her off with a laugh. "Okay then… I have his file on my laptop. Give me a second and I can check his prescription list."

"I'm really sorry to bother you when you're probably at home—"

"Kate, it's fine, really. That's what doctors are for."

She accepted his explanation and waited patiently while he browsed through the files. "The stronger dose is probably what's causing the intensity of the side effects," he explained. "Dr. Holland has prescribed him some pretty strong anti-nausea medications and believe it or not they're probably helping…"

"So there's nothing I can do? He's really bad, Jack."

The sound of his name was a bit of a shock to Jack, and he took a moment to recover. It felt so… _personal_.

"Well, it's really the same as treating any other form of nausea. When he can eat, try dry, bland foods like toast or crackers, make sure he's drinking slowly but getting plenty of liquids if possible. Unfortunately I can't really let him take anything else because of the dosage of his current prescriptions. It's just one of those things…"

She explained the frequency of his vomiting and her concern that he may be too sick to get his chemo on Monday.

"If he gets any worse, take him into ER. They can give him an IV and rehydrate him, and might be able to give him something else for the nausea."

She paused, thinking for a moment that he sounded too clinical. Then she remembered that he didn't owe her a thing. He was doing them a favor to begin with.

"I'm worried about him, that's all."

"I know you are. I know it's hard, Kate, but he may be like this for a long time to come. This isn't going to be easy, and he might get worse before he gets better…"

She shifted her weight onto her other hip, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn of their conversation, and how easily she could spill out her heart to him.

"I'm sorry I'm bothering you, this is stupid—"

"It's fine. Maybe it's none of my business, but I know that you're just getting to know your father and this is important to you. I understand."

She sighed; she couldn't understand what exactly was bothering her so much, and it bothered her even more that she had gone whining to Jack about it.

"Thank you," was all Kate managed to muster.

"I'll see you on Tuesday then? With Sam?"

Maybe it was her imagination, but he sounded hopeful, maybe slightly on edge. Like maybe he was looking forward to seeing her as much as she was to him.

"Yeah."

Not trusting herself to anymore conversation, she snapped her phone shut quickly.

He wasn't too clinical at all. That's what she was afraid of.

* * *

After his bout of intense nausea, Sam recovered in time for Monday's treatment. He went through the same thing after, but was doing okay by 3:30 Tuesday, the time of his appointment with Dr. Shephard.

They didn't wait long this time, and Sam was relieved not to have to fill out any more paperwork. Kate waited as patiently as she could when the nurse called Sam back to into one of the exam rooms. That was one place she didn't belong.

"Everything look the same?" Sam asked Jack of his current scans that showed the size of the tumor.

Jack scanned the read out and nodded. "Just about. Give the chemo some time to kick in though. You've only had three treatments since I last saw you."

"Bumping me up to four next week. Gonna be miserable."

"I won't disagree with you there, but I think it's really gonna help," Jack tried, aware of the man's fleeting optimism, if there had been any to begin with. "Okay, well I think we can have a seat in my office, maybe bring your daughter in to discuss everything?"

Sam threw a smile to his doctor, and couldn't wait to say 'I told you so' to Kate. "Heard she called you the other night. Sorry about that."

"She's just worried about you. She cares a lot, you know."

Sam nodded. "Don't deserve it."

Jack glanced down at the clipboard he held. "So what's her story?"

Sam decided not to beat around the bush. "Why you so interested?"

Flustered, Jack stuttered. "I'm not—I just wondered how things were between you two—"

Sam smiled, giving up his tease. "Don't gotta be so bashful, Doc. I think she's interested, you know."

From the way Jack's eyebrows raised, Sam wagered he might have felt the same. "I—umm, wow, I guess. Did she tell you this?"

Relieved to have stopped the medical conversation, Sam stood up, suddenly feeling the father figure. "Hell no. Kid's as stubborn as a bull. I'm not saying go marry her, but she quit her job to come out here, and she doesn't have any friends and let's face it, I'm not exactly a barrel of laughs."

Surprised at Sam's insistence, Jack sat back down. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Just be her friend. I don't know, show her around, introduce her to some people. I don't want her being so lonely."

Admittedly, Jack was happy to have a reason to see Kate more often. Sam wouldn't know it, but Jack was a bit of a loner too. It wouldn't hurt to be less focused on his work for once.

"Okay," he said hesitantly, careful not to sound _too _happy about it.

Sam caught on. "Relax, Doc. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

Unable to control his cracking smile when he entered his office and saw Kate sitting, legs crossed, immersed in the hospital-bought Van Gogh replica, Jack waved his hand in front of her face.

She looked nice, he noticed, just a hint of makeup on her freckled face that brought out all of her best features. Her outfit was thoughtfully put together.

"Hey," she mustered, trying to stop the creeping blush to her cheeks that always seemed to present itself whenever Jack was around. She wished it would stop. It gave away too much.

He noticed the pattern of blushing. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe she was interested.

"How is he?"

"No change in the tumor. Better than it growing, though," he noted, showing the scan of Sam's spinal tumor that the nurse had printed out for him. "Give the chemo a few more weeks."

"Where's Sam?" Kate asked, looking back to the doorway and noticing he had yet to appear.

Jack sat back in his chair, hoping that his explanation wasn't completely transparent. After all, Sam had practically _begged _him to go in there without him.

"Said he was feeling sick. He's waiting in the car. Thought you might want to hear his progress straight from the doctor."

"Well, he _is _good at avoiding conversation."

"So how're you getting along in LA? Was it all you expected?" he laughed; he remembered what it was like to be transplanted in LA.

Kate shrugged. "I haven't seen much of it to be honest, but I guess it's okay. I think I'll be here for awhile."

Jack tried to hold back what he could only think of as elation, and tried to pass it off as indifference. "I could show you around sometime. I mean, if that's what you wantd."

While she was beyond thrilled at the invitation, Kate wondered if traipsing about the town with her father's surgeon would be professional, or if it would provide an unhealthy distraction to his abilities.

"…Do you think that's… normal? For a doctor and his patient's daughter?"

It was exactly what Jack had wondered when Sam brought up the idea. It was actually somewhat comforting that Kate thought the same thing.

"Doesn't have to be," he said nonchalantly. "Someone has to show you around, right?"

Kate nodded, unable to think of any other reason why she _shouldn't _accept his invitation. "I _have _been feeling a little cooped up."

"Great," Jack replied, scrolling down on his laptop. "When're you free?"

Kate smiled and shook her head. She didn't want to appear too eager, but what the hell, she thought. Maybe she was supposed to come all the way out here for more than one reason.

"When am I _not _free?"

* * *

Up next: Kate learns about Sam's matchmaking plans. :)


	6. Fine

Thanks for your reviews! And remember, you're gonna have to have some patience with this one. :)

* * *

Chapter Six

Fine

"Are you coming over or what?"

Kate was woken from a deep and otherwise uninterrupted sleep, her bedside phone shrilling loudly beside her. It was Sam.

"It's only 8:30," she managed to croak, wondering why on earth Sam was so excited to see her, when from what she figured all she'd done during her visit to LA was annoy him. It must be karma. "Is something wrong?"

After his appointment the day before, Kate had gone back to the hotel with the excuse that she had some work business to take care of. In truth, that had all been set in stone before she left. Uncertain of how long her trip to LA would be, Kate used the leave of absence as a good excuse to quit a job she'd never much liked in the first place.

At first she had no intentions of starting over. Sam Austen had been a mysterious distraction for her entire life and her only desire was to end the curiosity. She didn't particularly want a father when she was perfectly fine without one, but the time she wasted wondering about him was poorly spent, she thought. Travelling to LA was supposed to stop her thirty-year-long obsession.

But now, with no job to head back to and a new father-ish figure in her life, who was much more accepting of her than Kate could've dreamed, she saw no reason to leave.

Sam let out a grunt of protest. "No, I'm fine. Well, relatively so."

Kate thought he'd never grow tired of poking fun at his illness. She supposed she had to let him laugh at himself. So far, he was making good on his end of the deal by going to see Dr. Shephard. At least he was giving himself a chance.

"Don't tell me you have something else going on?" Sam asked her sarcastically, but Kate still heard a whisper of optimism in the question.

Instead of arguing, Kate decided to forfeit, pulling herself out of bed, feeling the heaviness of her limbs and wishing coffee would magically appear in front of her.

"Fine," she relented. "I'll be over soon."

"Oh, and I cancelled your hotel room. No reason for you to stay there the whole damn time. You can take the second bedroom."

"What? I'm not staying with you—" Kate protested, but was cut off when the other end of the line went silent.

* * *

An hour later, freshly showered and checked out of the hotel, Kate arrived at Sam's, telling herself that Sam was only trying to do her a favor by insisting she stay with him.

In the movies they made it seem so easy to transition relationships and suddenly call someone 'dad'. Nowhere near ready for that, Kate avoided calling Sam anything to his face. It was easier that way.

They were making improvements. She could now walk into his apartment after only giving a knock of warning; they could banter with the best of them and know there were no hard feelings. Whatever their relationship was, it worked, and Kate appreciated it. But being around him constantly after knowing him for only a week? That might just prove to be disastrous, she thought.

"So what were you so eager for me to get over here for?" she asked once she'd set her bags in the spare bedroom. Sam sat on the couch, dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, both which hung unnaturally from his body.

Begrudgingly turning his head away from the golf tournament he'd been watching solidly for the past few days, Sam shrugged. "Eager? Me? Just wanted to… make sure that everything was okay… with your job and everything."

"I don't have a job anymore. That's kind of the problem," she started, flopping down beside him on the couch.

"They're not screwing you over, right? You quit voluntarily. You have rights—"

Touched that Sam cared enough to get worked up about it, Kate interrupted him before he went too far. "Everything's fine," she assured him, directing the conversation elsewhere. She didn't like to think about how soon she would run out of money, or the prospect of possibly finding a job in an unfamiliar area. "Now if I've got all this straight, you have another chemo treatment tomorrow. What time?"

"Eleven, same time as always," Sam grumbled with the tone he reserved for talking about his illness. "All the good it's been doing," he said. "Dr. Shephard said that there wasn't much change in the tumor."

"He _also_ said to give the chemo another week or two."

He shrugged again. "It's rough on me, Kate."

Sympathy wasn't Kate's strongest trait; it never had been. It struck her that the amount of sadness she felt for the man must surely come from the fact that he could do nothing more than he was already doing. In all likelihood, he did nothing to cause his cancer. It was just a fact of life, and now he had to rely completely on science and medication and surgery to heal him. It didn't seem fair.

"Did he tell you anything else in the exam room? We didn't talk specifics."

Sam shook off the question. "Nothing important. Just medical jargon for 'same old, same old'." Turning his attention back to the TV, he asked, "So if you weren't talking about 'specifics', what _were_ you talking about when I was out in the car?"

Kate frowned. Why was he so curious about what went on in Jack's office? He'd been in there with them the last time; he knew what to expect.

Rather than explain her and Jack's semi-awkward 'let me show you around town' conversation, which she still couldn't believe she agreed to, Kate told him they only spoke briefly about his chemo treatments and when the next appointment was scheduled.

Sam nodded accordingly, wondering if his little talk with Jack had produced any results. He got the feeling that even if it had, Kate wouldn't volunteer the information.

"He mentioned to me that he could show you around," Sam said. "Did he ask you about that?"

Kate glared at Sam, her jaw set tightly. "_Yes_."

"Oh," he said airily. "I guess it's settled then."

"_Sam_," Kate said sternly. "What're you trying to do here?"

The most animated Kate had seen him since her arrival, Sam rose from the couch. "I thought you could use a friend, that's all. He knows the area, you have to be close in age, and you even said that he seemed like a nice guy."

"Lots of people are nice. Doesn't mean I want you going around telling my sob story and guilting people into being my friends!"

Sam's eyebrows arched. "He didn't exactly fight me on it."

Kate shook her head. The fact that Sam and Jack were talking about her behind her back made her feel all kinds of uncomfortable. It wasn't as though she really _knew_ either of them, but yet there they were, trying to decide what was best for her.

Secretly thrilled that Jack wasn't completely appalled at the thought of spending one-on-one time with her, Kate continued her fight. "Do you know what this could cause? Jack and I hanging out? One giant distraction, when what you need your doctor, no your_ surgeon_, to be is focused and dedicated. Wouldn't you rather think that he's spending his time reviewing your case or preparing for your surgery than _know_ that he's wasting his time showing me around the town?"

Unable to wipe the smirk from his face, Sam said, "So you told him yes?"

Kate rolled her eyes. Was this man dense? She didn't need to be set up. If she had wanted to pursue something with Jack she would've initiated it herself. Well, maybe.

"That's not the point—"

"So you said yes," Sam said.

"Yeah, I said yes. Does that make you happy?" Kate asked him, standing now too, her hands on her hips in a defensive move.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, it does, 'cause I don't think I've done anything wrong."

He watched as Kate dug through her purse, eventually producing her cell phone. "Well watch," she said eventually, "I'm about to tell him never mind. I don't like being a charity case."

Sam didn't try to stop her. Maybe it was because he was confident that putting the idea in her mind in the first place may have been enough. All he'd done was plant the seed. His job was done.

"Fine… fine," he told her casually. "Do what you want."

* * *

"So you're telling me that you can't go because you think I'm going to kill your father?"

"I wouldn't say it's quite _that_ dramatic," Kate retorted, feeling herself flush. "I just don't… appreciate Sam going to you behind my back telling you how I'm incapable of making friends—"

Jack laughed. "I wouldn't say it's quite _that _dramatic," he said in similar fashion. "He's just looking out for you, and I honestly don't mind. And exactly how does me killing your father come into this?"

It _did_ sound a little irrational, but he was taking it out of context. And maybe she _had _embellished the possible effects of hanging out with Jack to mask her nerves, or maybe it really was out of genuine concern for Sam. She couldn't tell.

"It'll be a distraction to you, and that's the last thing you need in Sam's case," she whispered harshly. Leaning on the bedroom door, shut securely behind her, she already missed the privacy that the hotel room had allowed her. "And I don't even wanna go see all of Los Angeles. I don't see what the big deal about this place is anyway," she added quickly, hoping that her reasons would be enough to convince Jack that he didn't have to meet every one of Sam's requests.

"Wow, Kate," he said with more of a personal tone than he'd intended. Here they were, acting like they actually knew each other. "I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but you really think my entire life is devoted to my career?"

She hadn't meant to offend him. How were they already arguing?

"I—I don't know! Why can't you just let it go? I'm not comfortable with this, okay?"

"With me showing you around town, maybe going out to lunch, introducing you to a few people, a few places? Yeah, you're right, that sounds terrible."

"No," she started. "I'm not comfortable having a relationship with you outside of your office. I think it would be unprofessional on both parts. I know you want to make Sam happy, but this isn't a good idea."

Mistaking his pause for uncertainty, she continued her charade. In all honesty, she wasn't quite sure why she was pushing the case so hard. It might've been easier just to get it over with.

"Kate," he cut her off. "I get it, okay? I don't know what I did to offend you, but wow. You better let Sam know not to bring anything like this up again."

Suddenly she felt guilty. While she had only meant to suggest that maybe going around town together wasn't in the best interest for either of them, now she'd offended him.

"I didn't mean to offend you, really. I'm sorry, okay? This has all gotten so blown out of proportion."

"Then let me show you around," he said. "It can serve as your apology. You know, for making me feel so badly about myeslf."

When she huffed into the phone, Jack laughed. "This doesn't change the fact that it's not right for us to be doing this."

"I know. It'll be just this once though. I feel it's my duty to change your mind about LA, make you see 'what the big deal about this place is'."

"… I don't know. It doesn't feel right—"

Jack sighed dramatically. "You wouldn't want to upset Sam…" he said with just enough humor for Kate not to get offended.

Flopping back on the bed in a gesture she considered defeat, she told Jack one last thing. "Fine. You know what? I'll go. Just so _this _stops."

The sound of his deep chuckle over the line affected her more than she wanted to admit. She didn't like where this was heading.

"That's what I thought you'd say."

* * *

Up next: Kate's tour of LA, and Sam gets a recap from Jack when Kate won't fess up.


	7. The Getaway

As always, thanks for your reviews! I can't tell you how nice it is to hear feedback, and especially because this story seems to be attracting some different reviewers than normal. It's so nice to hear from new people! And of course, I love all of my loyal readers too. :)

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Chapter Seven

The Getaway

Jack woke up nervous. It was peculiar to him, as most of the time his nerves didn't touch him-- when preparing for surgery, or even during that first, crucial incision-- it'd all been beaten out of him in medical school.

But taking Kate out, on a non-date? _That _made him nervous. He didn't understand her, and wasn't completely sure if it was possible to. One minute he thought he'd cracked her, then she'd say something ridiculous like hanging out with him would distract him from Sam's case. He didn't buy it for a minute.

He didn't think that she'd said no initially because of his personality, or anything that he'd done wrong, but nonetheless it had shaken his confidence. Jack considered himself fortunate for never having been turned down for a date.

Wait-- this _wasn't _a date. He was sure Kate didn't think it was, and he didn't know what the hell to think anymore.

They'd made arrangements for Jack to pick her up at Sam's, and as he drove to the unfamiliar address he wondered whether or not Kate could've been right. All of a sudden things had turned personal. He was going to see where Sam-- his patient-- lived, the types of things he owned. A person's home could reveal a lot about them, and Jack had always made it a point not to get too attached. Things like that never ended well. He remembered what some of his coworkers had gone through and hoped he wasn't setting himself up for the same thing.

Kate must've been watching the window like a hawk, because when he pulled into the lot, he received a frantic text message. 'Coming down,' it read.

He would've gotten out of the car and opened the door for her like a gentleman should, but this wasn't a date, and besides, she had already swung the door open and plopped down in the passenger seat. "Hey," she said, her eyes wide, brushing her hair back from her face and clicking her seatbelt in place all in a matter of five seconds. Briefly he wondered how she even knew what type of car he drove.

Already Jack was laughing. "What's the rush?" he asked as he reversed and pulled out of the lot.

"Sam's _way_ too into this idea. He wouldn't stop asking me about it."

Jack nodded, and didn't find it hard to believe. Sam had seemed pretty desperate for Kate to develop a social life in LA when they'd talked at his last appointment.

When she'd woken up that morning, she decided to make their day together as normal as possible. Maybe it would turn out alright. Sam had already been up for a solid hour before she made her way to the kitchen, and Kate noticed that he'd had a strange optimism about him, but she couldn't get him to admit why. She _knew _why, knew that he was absolutely convinced that she and Jack would hit it off in a setting outside of the hospital.

Already the ride was awkward. She could think of nothing to say and it was suddenly apparent to her that they knew very little about each other. She'd been so obsessed with the idea of them going out together in the first place that she hadn't thought much about what would happen when they did.

"Where're we off to anyway?" she asked as he turned off the main stretch of road.

"Here and there," he said, uncommitted, and Kate wondered if he'd planned anything at all.

"Any place that I absolutely have to see? Could we go on a tour of the stars' homes?" She rolled her eyes.

"LA isn't all celebrities and plastic surgery, Kate," he said indignantly. "Real people live here too."

"What, like you? Mister hotshot spinal surgeon, with a career that 98 percent of people can't relate to in the slightest?"

She was joking, he knew, but it bothered him that all he was to her was a surgeon, and not a regular person.

"Well, you'll certainly fit right in..."

"And why's that?"

"Geez. I mean, you came out here to find your father that you never knew, and then there's all of this drama behind it. Just like a movie," he shot back at her, but lightly enough for her to know that he was kidding.

She huffed. "Okay, so we're both a little... out of the ordinary, I guess."

She watched as he drove around aimlessly, putting on his turn signals on a whim, directing the car wherever he pleased.

Kate stared at his profile and knew that he noticed. "You don't know where the hell we're going?"

"I'm not lost," he deadpanned. "I've been... busy," he said lamely, shrugging. "How about you _tell _me where you wanna go if it bothers you so much?"

"Busy?" she questioned. "Yeah, so busy trying to convince me to come out with you that you couldn't even plan what to do!"

He smiled easily, pulling into a small parking lot. "Relax, Kate. I've got it all figured out. You shouldn't be so uptight all the time, you know. Take it easy, enjoy the city, let me do all the work."

Kate's smile turned into a thin line. "Uptight?"

Jack hesitated. "Okay, so maybe that wasn't the right word. Just... stop _worrying _so much. Or at least for the afternoon. Then when I drop you off at Sam's you can commence pacing around the apartment, making sure he's taken his meds and is drinking enough water."

"_Someone _has to make sure he does all those things," she shrugged, but could reluctantly admit to herself that she'd been babying Sam a little and that it was starting to take its toll on her.

Choosing to ignore her, Jack opened his door and swung his feet out. "C'mon."

Kate stepped out, surveying the stucco building front. "Jack, this is a restaurant."

He nodded. "Very good, Kate. Do they have restaurants back in-- Iowa, was it?"

"Ha ha. This isn't what I'd call sightseeing."

Jack waved her off. "There isn't that much to see. Hollywood Boulevard, Melrose Avenue, shopping, the beach, but I'm guessing not much of that interests you?"

"So why insist on me coming out if it's not even worth it?" She wanted him to say it out loud. She wanted his reasoning.

"Oh," he started, pointing his finger then pulling open the door for her, "I didn't say it wouldn't be worth it."

Kate rolled her eyes. "You have an answer to everything, don't you?"

Jack stopped and looked at her, really looked at her. It made Kate nervous. "Isn't that why you found me in the first place?"

* * *

Kate would admit that the restaurant Jack had chosen was good. After a week and a half of eating food from a box, it was nice to have a real meal again. She wouldn't, however, admit that the conversation was good.

Lunch was awkward; their topics were strained, as if they were reaching just a little too far to make things work. They didn't have much in common, they'd discovered.

He grew up with two parents, she only had one. She _still _only had one, though it wasn't the way she'd imagined. Jack was rich, and probably always had been, though he wouldn't say as much. While Kate wasn't poor, back home she wouldn't have been able to afford the car he was driving, the watch he was wearing, or the black Amex he slyly presented.

"This isn't a date, Jack. Just because you're flashing that card around doesn't mean you're paying for my meal." She dug through her purse, searching in haste for her debit card, hoping to catch the waiter before Jack.

He had to admit that Kate was the first woman in a long time who didn't seem to be phased by money. He never 'flashed' it around as Kate said, but he liked to be comfortable and his taste in some things in life tended to be expensive. What was so wrong with that? Normally hee had no one but himself to spend it on.

"Okay," he argued, regaining his composure, "then it's because, from what your father tells me, you're out in LA without a job. So I'm still paying."

"But--"

"Do you have to fight me on everything? Can't you just _let_ me do something nice for you?"

It had come out of Jack's mouth more harshly than he intended.

Kate knew Jack figured he'd just offended her, but instead she admired the way he finally said what he felt, without censoring himself in respect to her feelings. "Jack?" she said, garnering his attention, finally meeting his eyes. "Thank you for lunch."

* * *

She'd seen Hollywood Boulevard and Melrose Avenue and everything that was LA 'traditional' in her mind. Jack was right. She wasn't interested in any of those things.

"I'm so sick of staring at concrete all the time," she sighed, surprised that she'd said it out loud. Positive that Jack wouldn't want to hear most of what she thought, Kate had been careful for their whole outing. Now that their silence could now almost be described as companionable, the afternoon had been less awkward.

"Yeah?"

"I mean, LA's fine and everything, but I'm not used to so much..."

"Chaos?" Jack chimed in.

"Exactly."

"You know what, Kate?" He stopped in the beat of traffic and was able to turn his head to her. "I think we finally agreed on something."

Kate smirked, unable to hold it back. The man could be charming when he wanted to be, which was exactly what scared her. If she was honest with herself, she would make her confusing attraction to Jack more apparent.

But this was a one-time deal. Nothing else was supposed to happen. He was Sam's surgeon, and that's what counted. That's what came first.

When Jack got on the freeway, Kate became suspicious. "What are you doing, driving us to New Mexico and kidnapping me?"

Jack chuckled and frowned at the same time, caught in a cluster of emotions. "You've caught on to my plan, dammit."

Kate smiled and rested back into the seat. Though she hadn't been sure how their day would turn out, she acknowledged that it was nice to be away from the chemo and the sickness and the mothering. It was nice not to pester Sam. Now she had Jack, and he had better comebacks.

"Now, it's not exactly LA because it's about 20 minutes out, but I thought it might be a nice change of scenery. It's calm here."

Because of the absence of a blanket in Jack's car, they opted to sit on the sand. Automatically Kate felt like it was okay to breathe. She inhaled deeply, smelling the salty air and feeling herself decompress. She was stressed, which had not been the plan when she'd left for LA. In the time before her departure, Kate had viewed her trip as a vacation of sorts.

Jack let her stew in her thoughts; he could tell she was full of questions but afraid to ask him. He knew how reluctant she was to let this turn into anything, and he was starting to see her point. When life got messy, at least in his experience, it got messy_ fast_.

"I come out here sometimes when life's hard," he volunteered, glancing quickly to Kate's profile, to her long brown curls being swept by the wind.

"Like when you lose a patient?" Her eyebrows raised, and for a minute Jack wished he could tell her it wasn't true.

"Believe it or not, I _am _human, Kate. Sometimes things... go wrong."

"Because _that's _what you should say to someone hoping you can save her father's life..." Kate laid back, perched on her elbows, trying to ignore the grains of sand imprinting themselves on her skin and the fact that Jack might not be as miraculous as she'd convinced herself.

He shrugged his shoulders, uncommitted. "That's the first time you've called him that, you know."

"Called who what?"

"I've never heard you call Sam your father before," he pointed out. "Maybe I'm wrong--"

"You're right," she interrupted. "It's just so..."

"Weird?" he helped her again, and she began to wonder how he got in her head so easily.

She shifted in the sand, squinting against the bright afternoon sun. She was thankful that Jack had brought her out here. "I would never say it to his face, at least not yet. That's too hard to even imagine. It's just... I never had a father, so to suddenly have one when I'm 30 means I don't know the rules or how this is supposed to work."

He laughed. "I'm not the person to ask, trust me." Choosing not to go into the complicated relationship he had with his father, Jack gave her a small smile, encouraging her to continue.

"And I don't know why, because we don't know each other very well, but I already feel really close to him."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "It's funny how that works."

* * *

Up next: Sam has a chat with Jack. Gosh, he's so embarrassing sometimes. ;) And Kate continues to be in denial.

* * *


	8. Brand New Life

Thanks for your reviews! Was hoping for a few more, but what can I do? This is fun to write regardless!

* * *

Chapter Eight

Brand New Life

"You mean he didn't introduce you to anyone?"

Sam's questions were beginning to bother Kate, when she thought she'd made it clear she didn't want to talk about her outing with Jack in the first place.

"We kind of ran out of time and Jack-- _Dr. Shephard_-- took me to the beach instead."

Sam, perpetually weak from the chemotherapy and radiation he was receiving, managed to sit up on the couch. "That kinda sounds like a--"

"Don't say it," Kate warned. "It wasn't like that at all."

"At all? Really?" With a twinkle of mischief in his eye, Sam glared back at her. She knew he wouldn't believe her.

If she was being honest, she would've told him that she and Jack had potential, if a relationship was what she was looking for and if Jack wasn't Sam's surgeon. If it wasn't so goddamn complicated.

By the time Jack had dropped her off back at the apartment early the night before, Sam had already been asleep. So when she woke earlier in the morning, Kate prepared herself for the barrage of questions she was sure Sam would ask.

Kate huffed and rolled her eyes, two things she found herself doing more often now that she was around him so much. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Sam cocked his head back. "Well Idon't care. _I _wanna talk about it."

About to snap, Kate considered ways to get out of the apartment. "It was fine," she said. "I'm going for a walk."

* * *

"Surprised to hear from me?"

Jack laughed into the mouthpiece of the phone a nurse had just handed him. "Not really, Sam. You're my patient-- I expect to hear from you from time to time."

Desperate times call for desperate measures, Sam had told himself before he picked up the phone and reluctantly dialed Dr. Shephard's number. If only Kate had cooperated...

"Is everything okay?" Jack asked him, and Sam could hear him shuffling through papers on the other side of the line.

"Yeah, I'm fine I guess. Dead tired, though."

"Just make sure you're getting--"

"Listen doc, I actually didn't call to talk about me..."

Immediately Jack was filled with a sense of dread. _Of course_ this would be about Kate. About he and Kate, specifically.

"It might not be, uh, exactly appropriate for me to be asking, but I was just wondering how things went with Kate yesterday? How'd it work out?"

Although he already knew that Sam had gone to Kate first, and had most likely gotten shut down, Jack feigned innocence. "Why don't you ask Kate...?"

"Won't talk about it. Practically ran out the door."

Jack laughed despite how uncomfortable he was. The only thing he could describe the conversation as was awkward. Really, extremely, awkward. More and more easily, Jack was beginning to buy into Kate's explanation that patients and doctors shouldn't have private relationships.

"It was fine," he mustered, not wanting to explain how personal their conversation had gotten on the beach, or the way he couldn't stop thinking about her, or the fact that he couldn't have her only made him want to go after her more.

"Wow are the two of you stubborn," he exclaimed. "Why's it such a big deal to fill an old man in on the details? You know I'm rooting for the two of you."

While he was thankful that Sam was behind them, Jack grimaced into the phone, remembering a particular point in he and Kate's conversation that had shot down any hopes he had. "I know you are," he replied, leaning back in his desk chair, exhausted from an early morning surgery. "But the problem's not entirely with me. I think all of this kinda freaks her out."

Sam laughed weakly. "She'll get over it. Don't let her convince you that it's unprofessional for you to have some sort of connection outside of you being my doctor."

"... I'm beginning to think that way too. I have a feeling that things will get... complicated," Jack admitted. Why the hell was he letting himself fall into this trap? He knew that Sam would try to change his mind, and had no doubts that he would constantly be working on Kate.

"Bottom line, it's not complicated. I'm telling you it's okay, hell, that I _want _you to pursue her. And my opinion is the only one that really matters."

Jack laughed. Sam was a good guy, with what Jack could only assume were good intentions, who sure knew how to argue his way to getting what he was after.

"Say you're right... but tell me one thing. Why are you so adamant about this?"

"Me and Kate's mom? We never shoulda broken up. I always regretted that Poppy just disappeared out of my life and I hardly looked for her. We argued a lot but we were so passionate..."

Sure, Jack thought, maybe Sam's past could cause him to play matchmaker. But he and Kate hardly knew each other, and Jack hadn't felt any sort of passion between them... Mostly just awkward, curious, tension that Jack wasn't sure he would consider a positive sign.

"I understand your past, Sam," he began. "But what does this have to do with me and Kate?"

"I'm not great at explaining it," the other man admitted. "But I see something that you two aren't letting yourselves see. And I'll be damned if I won't try to get you to."

Maybe Sam was right. After Jack's first conversation with Kate, he had already wondered if there was that _something_ between them, that spark that caused your head to spin, your face to flush, the thing that made your stomach drop. None of these feeling were particularly great on their own, but when they were all put together, nothing could beat them. Infatuation, love, lust...

Cradling his forehead in the palm of his hand, Jack briefly wondered if he was ready for any of this. The chase, the inevitable arguments and problems that had eventually led him to believe that it was easier to be alone. "What if you're wrong?"

After a long pause, when Sam considered telling Jack every little spark he'd seen between him and Kate, every little sentence Kate had spoken that seemed to remotely flatter the doctor, he favored something simpler.

"I'm not."

* * *

She wasn't sure what had provoked her into job hunting, when her future in the area was so unclear, and when she thought about how much she hated putting on a fake bravado and shaking lots of hands.

But Sam's chemo and doctor's visits, even with his insurance, were clearing his accounts fast, and Kate had no one else to rely on financially, nor did she want to.

After college she'd gone straight into the working world, and had settled for a job in marketing which she had never liked, but never hated enough to look for something else. And since he had already considered staying in the area for a while, no matter what happened to Sam, it was probably time to start looking. She shuddered. She didn't even want to think about that part of the equation.

That morning after Sam's verbal assault, and during her walk through the neighborhood, Kate had scrolled through her cell phone contacts and dialed the number Jack gave her the day before. During lunch he'd asked her if she was looking for a job, and when she'd said maybe and explained her background and degree, Jack said that he knew of the perfect opportunity for her.

His best friend, he'd told her, had recently opened his own publishing company, and was looking for a graphic designer for all of the publications and advertisements. Admittedly, Kate was excited at the sound of it, and the creative aspect of it appealed to her. At her previous job there hadn't been nearly enough creativity.

After stopping at a copy shop and faxing her resume over to Marc per his request, he'd already called her back and set up an interview.

She only had an hour to rush to a department store and buy an interview outfit, and then over to the address that Marc told her over the phone. She trusted Jack's choice in friends, but she was more nervous about what would happen if she got the job than if she didn't.

The last thing she needed was another connection to Jack, but the first thing she needed was money. It wasn't an easy problem to have.

* * *

"She's supposed to be here in fifteen minutes, man. Let me prepare my excellent interviewing skills. Aren't you supposed to have some high priority job to be working on anyway?"

Jack laughed into the phone. Marc had called him earlier after Kate explained that Jack gave her the company's information and told her about the job opening. He knew that Kate would cringe and most likely yell at him if she knew he and Marc were talking about her behind her back, but he wanted to give her a chance.

"I think she'll be a good fit, that's all," he explained, looking over Sam's file and the updated scans his oncologist had sent over. He had an appointment with him the next day, and desperately wanted to tell the man some good news.

He imagined Marc rolling his eyes before he spit out his next sentence. "Have you even _seen _any of her designs? Know anything about her?"

"...Well, no," he hesitated, waiting for Marc to pick him apart.

"I'm not hiring her just because you two are dating--"

"We're not dating," he said in a hurry.

Marc mocked him, throwing out a fake laugh. "Okay, then I'm not hiring her just because you _want _to date her."

Jack sighed and glanced at the blinking light on his phone that alerted him to another call coming through. "I've gotta go. Just give her a chance, alright?"

* * *

If Kate had stumbled on Marc and his publishing company by chance, she would've been absolutely thrilled by the find. But such as it was, with Jack's help in yet another area of her life, it wasn't quite so exciting. After a brief interview in which Kate thought she did well and her personality had clicked with Marc's, he'd given her a prompt for a mock design, and had left her alone for thirty minutes to produce it.

She'd found it easy to get her creative juices flowing, with all of the stress in her life and the opportunity to start over. Happy with the finished product, she'd fetched Marc and watched him critique the design.

"It's great," he said. "I've been trying to cover all of this on my own but I'm not great at the visual aspect. I just stick to the writing."

He made a few additional clicks and sent it to the printer. "What d'ya say?"

"I don't know... what do I say?"

"I'm prepared to offer you the job if that's what you want," he said. "I can give you the details of the position and give you a call later, give you some time to think it over?"

Kate nodded numbly, surprised at the hasty offer. She thought she was qualified and that she would enjoy the work, but there was a lot to think about.

Unsure if she should bring Jack up at all, she finally spit out her question. "You're not doing this because... Jack didn't tell you to do this, did he?"

Marc shook his head. "He suggested you, yeah, but I wouldn't offer the job to you if I didn't like you, Kate. I think you'll be an excellent fit, and your past experience is great. You're just what I'm looking for."

Kate smiled genuinely. It was exactly what she'd needed to hear. "Okay, as long as you're sure you're not doing anyone favors..."

"The fact that you know Jack only helps you. He has a good read on people."

* * *

"Heard you were offered a job today," Jack said after Kate had reluctantly picked up her phone.

"I was," she agreed, biting back a smile. He sounded so happy for her.

"And you weren't even going to tell me?" he mocked, pretending to be offended.

She had thought a lot about the offer, and when Marc had emailed her a tentative contract, she'd liked the offer. The money was right, the hours were great, and the job description matched what she actually wanted. She'd already called Marc back and accepted the position.

"I was thinking about it," she offered. "Listen, I just wanted to say thanks for putting me in touch with him. At first I wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but it's kinda perfect actually."

"I'm happy it worked out for you. I was getting pretty sick of listening to all of Marc's whining, to be honest. You're doing me a favor."

Kate laughed, then looked to Sam's bedroom door to make sure he wouldn't come out and check on her. "Okay," she said awkwardly, "I guess we'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Wait... what are your plans for tonight? We should celebrate..."

Jack thought of his conversation with Sam earlier. He had to try...

"Jack," she said, sounding exasperated. "Yesterday was a one-time deal."

"I _know,_" he said smartly. "But you have to celebrate getting a great new job, and I'll even invite Marc and you can invite Sam, see if he's up for it. So it won't be a date."

She _did _kind of like the idea of getting dressed up and going out, and getting to know Marc before she started the job could only help...

"Well... okay," she said after a minute, imagining Jack squirming during the wait. "As long as it's not a date."

* * *

Up next: Who will show up to Jack and Kate's non-date besides Jack and Kate? ;) Leave a review!


	9. Let's Make A Deal

Thanks for your reviews, I really appreciate them! And sorry for the longer wait in between updates! Let me know what you think. :)

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Chapter Nine

Let's Make A Deal

Kate rushed around Sam's apartment, taking a quick shower and pulling the only dress she'd brought with her over her head. She hoped it would be appropriate. From what little time she and Jack had spent together, Kate had figured out that the doctor had good taste and was sure he wouldn't skimp on the celebration.

"Sam!" she yelled, confident that he'd woken up from his nap and she wasn't interrupting. "How do you feel about going to dinner with me?"

Sure enough, he emerged from his bedroom a moment later with a paperback mystery in his hand. "You look nice," he said, surveying her black dress, watching her thread a dangly pair of earrings through her lobes. "What's this you said about dinner?"

"Yeah, wanna come with me?" she asked, hoping that he would conveniently forget to ask what the occasion was. "It's at this place… Hagerty's I think? You know of it?"

Sam nodded. "That's a nice restaurant…" Suddenly he caught on, sure that Jack was taking her. Pretending not to have noticed, he continued. "And no offense, but how are you gonna pay for a place like that?"

Sam followed her into the bathroom where Kate applied some makeup. "I have a job now in case you forgot. I'll manage. Now are you coming with me or not? Might be a good thing to get out of the house and go somewhere other than the hospital for once…"

He couldn't even pretend like he didn't agree with her. "Now why do I get the feeling that a certain Dr. Shephard is going to be there?"

He saw the immediate blush rise on the apples of her cheeks. "I told you that he hooked me up with this job and he wants to celebrate" she explained. "Plus, Marc is going to be there, so it isn't like you're going to be interrupting anything."

Though he doubted the meeting was going to turn out as innocently as Kate portrayed it, Sam agreed. It would be nice to have a change in his routine, and he figured he should take advantage of the opportunity since he wasn't feeling as awful as he had for the past few weeks.

"Fine, I'll go."

"Leaving in fifteen, so hurry it up."

* * *

As he turned away, Kate could swear she heard him grumble, "Great, now me and this Marc guy will be the third _and _fourth wheel…"

Hagerty's _was _nice. Kate couldn't remember the last time she went somewhere that required valet parking, but convinced herself before she had even walked through the door that she belonged in this type of place.

Jack and Marc had already been seated by the time Sam and Kate followed the host back to the table. Though she wasn't entirely sure what Sam had spent all of his time doing, it had been difficult to get him out the door on time, and now they were ten minutes late.

Both men stood when they approached the table, and Kate had a moment of doubt, wondering how on earth she was supposed to greet her father's doctor and her boss. Right then, she decided to stop thinking of them in that way—it would only make things awkward, when chances were, Sam would already fill that quota for the night.

"I think congratulations are in order," Jack said after they sat down. Sam had practically thrown himself into the chair next to Marc, leaving the seat next to Jack open. Kate saw that Jack too had noticed and fought back a grin, instead throwing the smirk in her direction.

Marc poured the wine, ignoring Sam's request to be passed, on Jack's insistence that a little wouldn't hurt.

"Gotta live a little," Sam grumbled, and bit his tongue before he said something that would send Kate on another one of her 'you deserve to live!' rants.

Jack focused on her, his eyes in line with hers, so sincere Kate wasn't sure how to feel. "To Kate," he said simply, as he easily brought another blush to her cheeks and the table raised their glasses.

Sam broke his bread in half, surely breaking some fancy restaurant etiquette, but Kate didn't care. She was glad he was able to be there. "So," he started, directing his question at Marc. "Why'd you hire her? Jack ask you to?"

Maybe she wasn't so glad he was there after all.

"Sam!" she admonished him. There was no doubt that Marc was a nice guy, but she hadn't been around him enough to determine his humor. A lot of people wouldn't take that sort of comment in stride.

"Well if _you _won't ask…"

Luckily Marc smiled and shook his head. "Jack merely recommended Kate. She proved herself to me when we met. I think she's going to be great for the company."

Kate nodded enthusiastically, aware that Jack's eyes were on her. Self consciously she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "This is actually the type of job I've wanted but never looked for. I guess I felt safe at my job back home… but Marc has just started the company and I like the way he does business, and I'll agree that I think it's going to work out," she said to Sam, who still looked less than impressed.

"So I guess I have you to thank, Jack," she said, giving him a small, shy smile and holding eye contact for only as long as necessary.

"Anything to help out a friend."

There was something forced in the way he said it, and it made Kate think that he wasn't entirely sure what they were either. Friend seemed to fit the description best, at least at the moment, but they were both very aware of their feelings, which were quickly emerging.

"She must like me a lot, making plans to stay here for a while…" Sam winked at her. "Or maybe there's someone else—"

Thankful that he at least wasn't counting himself as dead quite yet, Kate stopped him before he could embarrass her further, or ask Jack if he'd like to marry her one day. "It's just nice to make a change, that's all. There's nothing for me back in Iowa anyway. Why not stay here? It's _warm_."

The three men laughed. "Well I'm glad you're here," Jack said as Marc agreed, making time for the waiter as he took their orders.

"You mean you don't have a dog and a boyfriend back home waiting on you?" Marc asked, giving her a furtive glance. Kate could already tell what his game was.

She shook her head. "None of the above."

"Oh, that's weird, Jack doesn't—"

"So when are you starting, Kate?" Jack asked her, attempting to rescue her from the conversation and save himself from mortification.

"Wednesday," Marc offered, not letting the subject drop. "But like I was saying, Jack doesn't—"

"Marc, _really_?" Jack cut in, glaring at the redheaded man, who he was no longer sure if he wanted to count as a friend.

Looking anywhere but at Jack—overanalyzing the menu, the candles on the table, Sam—she noticed Sam hesitating. _No_, she thought. _Don't say anything at all!_

The older man folded his hands across the table before taking a sip from his water glass. "I think what Marc's trying to say is that Jack isn't attached?"

Grinning broadly, Marc straightened his posture proudly. "That's exactly what I'm saying. I knew I liked you, Sam."

"Stop it—" Kate said.

"I don't think this is a good idea—" Jack said.

Sam raised his shoulders nonchalantly. "I think he's just making a friendly… _suggestion._"

Kate blushed furiously, upset at two out of three men at the table, which wasn't a good ratio in her book. "Well it's been heard. Loud and clear."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, and Kate would laugh at the simplicity of it if she weren't so pissed off.

Lately, Sam had developed an attitude that he should say anything he was thinking, since he was sure he wasn't going to be around too much longer anyway. It provided them with some very awkward moments, but Kate could say that she always knew what Sam was thinking. It was a blessing at times, but she didn't count this as one of them.

"Can't you at least think about it?"

"I have!" Kate blurted out, her entire body beginning to burn when she realized what she'd said.

Jack leaned forward at the table, that smirk present on his face once again. "Wait, what?"

"I mean, I don't know—why is everyone so crazy about all of this? This is so—"

Relaxed into his chair now, Jack folded his arms across his chest. Kate wanted to smack the smugness right off his face. "I think you mean what you said…"

"So what if I've thought about it?" Kate stammered, not sure how Jack had suddenly gained the upper hand. "That doesn't mean—"

"It means you've thought about it," he pushed, glancing to Marc and Sam and seeing the amused looks on their features. "That's all I've been trying to get you to admit for about two weeks now."

Flustered, Kate grabbed her purse and stood up. "There. I admitted it. Happy now?"

"Extremely," he smiled.

Kate stomped her way to the bathroom.

Sam laughed, watching Jack watch Kate. "Think I pissed her off."

* * *

By the time she returned to the table and finished pouting, their meals had arrived and provided a happy distraction for Kate. It would be like Sam to bring it up again, so she still didn't feel safe.

Sam was feeling tired but didn't want to admit it. Surprised that Kate had any concern left in her tonight, she asked him if he was feeling okay.

Marc stretched and finished off his last bite of steak. "I'm stuffed and I need to get home. Still have a few things to finish up before deadline tomorrow."

"I'm going to take off too," Sam said. "I trust that Dr. Shephard can get you home all right?" His limited fatherly instincts kicked in and he raised an eyebrow at Jack.

"I can," Jack agreed.

Kate stood up quickly. "I'll just go with you, it's no big deal."

"Nah," he waved her off. "Stay, finish your wine, stop worrying about me for once."

Kate chuckled and for once was thankful for his efforts to get her and Jack to spend time alone.

Meeting Jack's eyes for the first time in an hour, she questioned, "You mind?"

"'Course not."

Awkward silence was an understatement for the first few minutes of their alone time.

"Can we just pretend like half of tonight didn't happen?" Kate asked, scrunching her napkin in her hands, her knuckles turning white.

"Like _what _didn't happen?"

His smugness was somehow equal parts unnerving and sexy. He didn't make sense. One minute he was embarrassed at the suggestion of them dating, then the next he questioned why they weren't in front of her father and his best friend.

Ducking her head down, Kate examined the dessert menu.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it, but just humor me this once. I don't buy the whole 'this'll be a distraction' bit. You said you've thought about it, so what else is holding you back?"

"Nothing," Kate lied.

"I still don't buy it. I know that there's… _something_, you know?"

Closing her eyes, Kate took a deep breath, calming herself. "I'm not denying that."

She never failed to notice the way his clothes fit him, how rugged he was but still managed to be sensitive most of the time, or the way he talked to her like he really cared.

"Okay," he smiled. "Then what's the problem? I can handle it, this 'distraction' and whatnot, and I know you can handle it…"

"Why's that?"

Jack shrugged. "Sticking around when you found out Sam had cancer? Practically forcing him to continue treatment? That's tough."

"People do what they have to do, Jack."

"You didn't _have _to do anything, that's the thing. It would've been much simpler to walk away."

It would've been easier to walk away, Kate thought. But now, though dealing with Sam's illness was difficult, she was getting other things in return. A chance to start over, a chance to get to know her father. That had to be worth something.

On her silence, he continued. "So I have a proposition for you. Sam's surgery will be in a week and a half if his chemo and radiation continue to shrink the tumors the way they are now."

"Yeah," Kate nodded, not sure what medical speak had anything to do with a conversation about dating.

"After Sam's surgery, I want you to give me a chance."

How could he be so positive that things would go well? It almost sickened her that at times she seemed to be a higher priority in his mind than Sam was.

"After?"

"I'm going to fix him, Kate. And maybe having this little deal behind it will motivate me even more…"

He knew how to bargain, she'd give him that. Never mind that it was a sick and somewhat twisted method of getting what he wanted.

She just wanted Sam to live. And maybe just a little, she wanted Jack.

* * *

Up next: Sam learns of Jack and Kate's deal, and Kate starts work.


	10. Forever and Always

Life has been hectic but what else is new? :) Enjoy, please leave a review, they're great motivation. You may just get a little treat in the next chapter if you're extra nice! ;)

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Chapter Ten

Forever and Always

"Your mother was never one for this much whining," Sam said gruffly a few days after their night at the restaurant. Since beginning her job, the two had fewer chances to talk, and Kate was so infuriated with the man that she hadn't dared bring up his fine dining and geurilla tactics that he'd shared with the group, and even encouraged Marc to employ. Kate had started to think it was a blessing that she now had a job—they weren't constantly in each other's hair—but then she remembered how sick he was. Then the guilt set in.

"You must've known a different Diane than I did then," Kate retorted with a biting laugh. She loved her mother dearly, but if anyone could find something to complain about, it had been Diane. "I'm just saying—and it feels like I'm talking to a wall, by the way—that I don't appreciate you trying to play matchmaker between Jack and I. It makes things awkward."

Sam rolled his eyes and Kate could tell he was trying to cover up how terrible he was feeling. The intensified chemo and radiation treatments were taking a toll on him physically and mentally and had left him even more closed off than Kate had grown accustomed to.

"Woulda been awkward anyway. Guy's had eyes for you since the moment you walked into his office. Don't think I didn't notice."

"_I_ didn't even notice!" she lied, hoping to have the last word. She wasn't used to having someone around who insisted on disagreeing with everything she said. "I hope you understand that I'm doing this for you, trying to focus on getting you better."

Taking his eyes off of his novel, Kate felt that she finally had his full attention. "Doing what? Pissing away a chance to be with someone?"

Losing her temper, Kate stopped tearing the lettuce she was preparing for that night's dinner. "What has convinced you so entirely that Jack and I are meant to be? Because honestly, if you can give me some sort of reason and I agree with it, then I'll admit that we're soul mates and are destined to be together, all of that shit."

"Dr. Shephard and I have... _talked_," Sam said.

"Oh, now you've convinced me. That's right, we _are_ meant to be together."

"Say I'm wrong," he started, "which I'm not, but still… would it really be so bad if I just wanted something else to focus on? You know, other than dying and potentially fatal surgeries. Those kinds of things."

Kate softened. While his explanation didn't cure everything, it was understandable that the man needed a distraction.

Sighing, she turned the tap on and continued her work. "Let's compromise here, all right? Could you at least be a little less... just a little _less_?"

"Only if you promise me you'll do a little _more_."

* * *

The next day while Kate was at work, she found herself still pretending that Marc hadn't upset her the other night at their dinner with Jack and Sam. Never in her life had Kate considered herself soft, but something about the way Sam and Marc had both basically attacked her and Jack dug at her. It pissed her off.

So it didn't help her situation in the slightest when the man in question strode through the office doors, that cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Well, I _would _ask who you're here to see, but I don't think that's necessary," Marc chimed in, greeting Jack with a casual handshake.

Jack shot him a glance—and for a brief moment Kate wondered if the two had their own version of gossip, that maybe they sat on Jack's couch, drinking beer and scheming up ways to get in her pants—then she stopped, wondering where the actual conversation was headed.

Rolling his eyes, Jack continued. "Actually, I wanted to tell Kate in person."

Moving her glance from the computer screen in front of her, she met his eyes. "Tell me what?"

"So you couldn't come to Sam's appointment yesterday, I get that—"

"I couldn't leave, Jack, we had a last minute deadline and I just started—"

Marc raised his hands in the air, proclaiming his innocence. "Hey, I told you you could leave for a bit—"

"Woah," Jack interrupted. "Not playing the blame game here. I wanted to tell you about your father… I was waiting for you to call me last night but you never did."

"Sorry?" Kate said, unsure of his angle. Sam had told her that everything was the same.

Jack sat down across from her. "I knew he wouldn't tell you right away," he said, shaking his head. "Stubborn."

"Tell me about it."

When Jack's eyes lit up, Kate prayed for good news, though the deal she'd reluctantly accepted was surely packaged with it. There was no way she would rally against her father just so she wouldn't have to give Jack a chance, or whatever it was he wouldn't shut up about. They'd practically been a date before anyway…

"You know how sometimes things just seem to go your way?" Jack asked, vague as ever.

"Okay, I'll take the bait…"

"We scheduled the surgery. It's in three days—"

How could they possibly have taken such a drastic step without even consulting her? Sure, Kate wasn't the one who was sick, but it had been her pushing that made Sam see Dr. Shephard in the first place. And yes, as a doctor, Jack did know what was best, but that feeling came back to her, the one the dug at her, similar to how she felt after Sam and Marc's ambush at dinner.

She was no longer in control, and she didn't like it.

"Wait, what about the tumors? I thought you couldn't do the surgery until they were smaller?"

Jack smiled, this time not cocky, but confident and seemingly genuinely happy for Sam. "That's the thing," he started. "We did new scans today on his spinal tumor. It's gotten smaller, not significantly so, but to the point that it's more operable than before. And I don't like to wait."

"That's… great," Kate said, looking around the office to Marc, who didn't belong in the conversation and knew it. "But what about the liver tumors?"

"They're in control. There's never been much question as to whether or not those can be operated on. They can, but that won't happen until after I operate on him. Right now the pressing issue is getting the spinal tumor out. It has the most potential to spread at this point."

Before Kate could speak, Marc chimed in to excuse himself. "Listen, this all sounds wonderful, and I'm happy for your dad, but I have some work to finish. Kate, you can leave after you finish up the graphics on the front sleeve, okay?"

Kate nodded absently. "Then why did Sam tell me everything was pretty much the same? Wasn't it at least a little bit important to tell me about this?"

Leaning back in his chair, Jack chuckled. "Before you go all crazy and stuff, I have to tell you that we just scheduled the surgery today. I had to call Dr. Holland on the liver tumor issue, get the facts from her. He wouldn't have had time to tell you."

"Like hell he wouldn't," Kate said. "Is it that hard to pick up the phone? I get that he hasn't told me about the surgery yet, but he could've told me that the tumor has shrunk."

Very aware that they were now alone, Kate sat rigidly in her desk chair, watching Jack look out the window, carefree almost, as though he didn't face a tough surgery in only a few days.

"Fair enough. But whatever the case, I figured that I should come out here to explain everything to you."

Kate managed a meager "thanks," before returning to her graphic, not able to concentrate but not able to look directly at Jack, either.

"Three days… wow," she said eventually, her senses on alert when he leaned behind her, examining the graphic of a bird she'd recently designed.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, instead focusing his attention on the screen. "That's cool, you're really talented, Kate." He glanced over to her and finally she met it, afraid to be rude, but also afraid of the lack of distance between them.

_People who are 'just friends' don't do things like this,_ she thought.

Why was it that when he stood like that, his palms planted on either side of her elbows, so close that she could feel the heat of him, the tickle of his breath on her ear, that she didn't think at all about how in three days, Sam's fate was in his hands?

She didn't think of him as a doctor at all—just a man.

* * *

After receiving a fairly harsh lecture from Kate about the importance of filling her in immediately on all information regarding his health, Sam was ready for bed. He just wanted the yapping to stop.

"We don't even know each other very well, you know," she started again, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

"I know."

"And in three days, I mean…"

"You mean if I die in three days you wanna make sure we got to be buddies, or what?"

Widening her eyes, Kate surveyed the beaten down man before her. He had sacrificed so much for her, and who knew if he would come out of it any better?

She paused and reminded herself not to get an attitude. "I just want to make sure we've taken advantage of this. It's not every day that you meet your father after thirty years. It's quite the opportunity."

Attitude visibly softened, Sam told her stories of his days with Diane, or Poppy as he always called her. She got little pieces of information about her mother, things that surprised her, like the fact that Diane had a tattoo Kate never knew about. She didn't have the guts or interest to ask where it was, or how he knew about it…

The rundown of their relationship was much like the stories that Kate produced in her mind as a child, stories that became increasingly more realistic as she got older. The two had met in a diner Diane was working in at the time. Sam was in town on a construction job, and took a liking to Diane immediately. The waitress was feisty and kept him on his toes.

"Plus, she was awfully pretty," he said.

The affair had lasted only a few months, when Sam found out that his next project would relocate him to California.

"Before I could even tell her I was leaving, she'd already taken off," he said. "Guess that's about the time you come into the story."

Kate never expected that she would be the one filling in the gaps of Diane's life, but Sam was curious, and it settled her to realize that he still thought of her mother. The pair was more than a little combustible, but at one point they'd been in it for the right reasons.

"I wish I woulda known about you… coulda helped out a little maybe. Visited you."

Confused why a simple conversation, one that they'd basically already had, was bringing her near tears, Kate shook her head and placed her hand on top of Sam's. "You had no way of knowing. There's nothing to feel guilty about and nothing to feel sorry for. I know you're the type of man who follows through on his responsibilities. But since you didn't know about me in the first place…"

"All right, all right," the older man grumbled. "I wanna help you, though. You know, after I'm gone."

For the first time, the man's talk of death was not in jest. For the first time, she saw fear in his eyes.

And without her usual biting tone, she said, "Don't talk like that. You can't think like that."

"It's not about being morbid or expecting to die, Kate. I wanna make sure that my daughter has everything she's entitled to. And it's different when there's a more concrete timeline on your fate. When you're told you only have a few months left, you gain some perspective. And a few days? I could be gone, and we have to think about that. Three days from now, it could be like I never existed."

The tears that had threatened to spill over the duration of their conversation finally did, and Kate wiped them from her cheeks hastily. Deciding to sprint through whatever boundaries they had left, she pulled the older man, no, her _father_, into a hug.

Eventually she felt his arms settle around her, and she thought a few tears of his had soaked into the shoulder of her top. It was unbearable to think that all of the hardship he'd been through could end up being for nothing. He might still die.

She whispered into his ear, gripping the fabric of his shirt and unwilling to let go. If there was ever a time to let their feelings out, this was it.

"You're gonna make it through this, Sam. I'll always be your daughter, and you'll always be my dad."

* * *

Up next: Sam and Jack prepare for surgery, but in drastically different ways, and Kate is caught in the middle.


	11. Stuck In My Head

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Thanks for your reviews and your patience. That should pay off soon. ;) Next chapter is already written. 10 reviews and I'll put it up soon!

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Chapter Eleven

Stuck In My Head

"I want you to have a look at this," Sam told Kate, handing over a hefty stack of papers before sinking into his favorite recliner. "Just in case. I don't want you to be blindsided. You know, if something happens."

The top of the document read _Last Will and Testament_. Kate sighed and flipped through the pages just to satisfy her father. "Thanks," she said. Though she wouldn't express it, she was thankful that Sam had prepared for the worst in some ways. The surgery was risky and there was a chance—one that she didn't like to think about—that he wouldn't survive.

Expecting a fight, Sam cocked his head to the side and pondered the strange actions of his daughter. "You really have nothing else to say? You_ always _have something to say…"

Kate closed the lid on her laptop, deciding that getting any more work done wasn't in the cards for that afternoon. Marc had insisted that she take a week vacation, in preparation for Sam's surgery and so she would be fully available afterward.

Initially Kate expected that having any strings attached to Marc would be a disadvantage, that being recommended to him by Jack of all people, someone who was clearly interested in her and was also Marc's best friend, would create an awkward tension. There was some of that, like when Jack decided to visit the office and it was unclear who he was there to see, but for the most part, having Marc for a boss was working wonderfully. She wasn't sure that another boss would be so understanding, so _adamant _that she spend time with her father after only one week of work.

"Is this mine?" she asked, taking a closer look at the documents, noticing that he'd left everything to her. She shouldn't have been surprised; Sam hadn't kept many people around over the years, and she suspected there wasn't anyone else to give it to.

"Yeah, it's a copy," Sam replied, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time that day—always playing the at-this-time-tomorrow-I'll-either-be-out-of-surgery-or-dead game. "And I just wanna let you know, and maybe this isn't the right time for this, but I kinda, uh… met someone."

Earlier in his life Sam was a good looking man, and flashes of that handsomeness sometimes shone through, when his smile was genuine and his laugh was hearty. But with the cancer and the appointments, Kate hadn't thought the timing for a relationship was right—for either of them.

"I—wow, I mean, when?"

"A few weeks now. She's a paralegal at my lawyer's office. I've been in there so goddamn much…"

Fumbling with her hands, unsure whether to congratulate him or ask when the wedding was.

"It's nothing serious," he said, "and I didn't plan on telling you, but with the surgery and everything—"

"No, no, I appreciate it, I really do," Kate said. "But you shoulda told me anyway," she teased, deciding to be happy for him.

"No way," he glared. "You'll just make fun of us."

"Payback," she laughed. "Oh, how fun will _this_ be? What's her name?"

"Marcia," he mumbled.

A shade of crimson Kate wasn't sure she'd ever seen before flushed to Sam's cheeks and she rose from the couch, patting him on the shoulder on the way to her bedroom.

"Dad, I think you're blushing."

* * *

Jack wasn't used to feeling like his heart would beat out of his chest. Every time he thought of Sam's surgery, his pulse steadily increased until the thump was bottled in his throat and he felt like he was in someone else's body.

There was always a certain amount of pressure attached to his profession. Performing a surgery meant he held someone's life in his hands. He'd either end up a hero or a failure. Neither was all that easy to deal with.

But Kate had been right, and he hated to admit it. Adamant from the start that building a relationship with Kate or Sam wouldn't compromise Sam's result, as the days crept closer to his surgery, Jack felt the pressure build and build.

It wasn't all about Kate. Sure, it was obvious that he was attracted to her, and wouldn't mind it if a romantic relationship blossomed at some point. But he _liked _Sam, and would've liked him as a patient even if Kate didn't come packaged. There was more to it than the typical patient-doctor relationship. The ease with which Sam approached life was something Jack admired, and he'd begun to look at the man as a father figure of sorts.

And if it was his fault that Sam died? He wasn't sure he could handle that.

So when he'd picked up the phone to call Sam, the phone number memorized, he was startled when Kate picked up.

"I was just calling to go over everything for tomorrow. Make sure everything's set."

"Okay," Kate said, skeptical already. Jack's normal, confident boom-of-a-voice just wasn't the same. He actually sounded worried.

Kate handed the phone over to Sam, and curled her legs under herself on the couch, waiting patiently.

"Jack wants to talk to you," Sam said after awhile, handing the cordless back to her.

"Yeah?"

Jack let out a timid laugh, wondering himself why he'd asked to talk to Kate again. "Well I've asked Sam how he's feeling and he seems pretty calm."

"You don't," Kate shot back, more harshly than she intended.

"I always get nervous before surgeries." There was some truth in his statement; he always got nervous, just not _this _nervous.

Sounding preoccupied, Kate rattled off a few suggestions. "Try to relax, go for a run or watch a movie. Distract yourself."

Before he could respond, he heard Sam's muffled voice in the background and a sudden outcry from Kate. He struggled to hear Sam, but heard Kate's side of the conversation rather clearly.

"Where are you going?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Who's taking you?"

"Do you have a death wish?"

"I'm not letting you leave."

What felt like ten minutes later, Kate came back on the line, sounding out of breath and flustered.

"What's wrong?" he dared to ask. Toward the end of the exchange he'd heard a door slam and a few profanities from Kate.

Conventional methods of relaxing out the window, and she and Jack's pact forgotten for the moment, Kate took a deep breath and posed a question.

"Look, you need to relax, and the only way I relax is by cooking. So…?"

"So you wanna cook for me?" he hesitated.

"Well, yeah. But it isn't—"

"I know, it's not a date. But don't forget…"

How could she forget? Jack only reminded her every chance he had that she owed him a date at the very least.

Blowing off the comment, Kate opened the fridge to find it mostly bare. "Do you happen to have any… food?"

Jack laughed and already Kate was sure they were doing the right thing. "You're in luck. My mom just stocked my fridge. She's convinced that I don't eat."

* * *

"He's going skydiving!" Kate ranted when she arrived at Jack's apartment, forgetting that she'd never been there before and skipping the formalities. "He's going to leap out of a fucking plane and trust his life with a piece of nylon!"

His apartment was definitely an upgrade from Sam's, though sparsely decorated and too clean for her taste. It didn't look lived-in.

Besides their day trip together, Kate couldn't remember seeing him so informally. Wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt, he was dressed casually but looked tense.

"Skydiving?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows. He'd always heard stories of people taking chances and doing crazy things before life and death situations, but Sam didn't seem the type. "With who, exactly?"

"_Oh_," Kate rolled her eyes. "You'll love this. With his new girlfriend, or something like that."

Jack laughed, suddenly admiring Sam more than he already did, and his ability to pick up women even when he was stricken with cancer and half-dead.

"Marcia," Kate said, rolling her eyes again.

"Oh man."

"And skydiving? He's crazy, Jack. I don't know what to do."

He nodded, pretending to be completely on Kate's side but also understanding Sam's.

Kate walked into the kitchen and to the fridge, pulling vegetables out of the drawers and pork chops from the shelves. "Something about 'celebrating life and taking chances'."

So for the next 45 minutes, while the pork chops cooked and the vegetables steamed, Jack listened to her venting turn into genuine worry, and catapult into tears at the thought of losing her father. It was awkward and Jack could think of nothing to say, nothing that would make her feel better. He wasn't feeling the greatest, either.

"I'm being stupid," she eventually said, wiping the tears from her cheeks and taking a deep breath to compose herself.

"You're not stupid to be worried," he offered, putting a hand awkwardly on her shoulder and removing it when he sensed she felt uncomfortable.

It was rare that she looked him right in the eye and held it for longer than a few seconds, so when she didn't break, he knew to take her seriously. "That's comforting, coming from his surgeon."

"I'm a little freaked out, all right? Is that so bad?"

"It's not the greatest feeling Jack, I'll admit it!"

Suddenly everything he was thinking, everything that had been building for the past week, came bursting out. "I'm freaked out because I care about your dad, Kate. And I care about you and I don't think I can handle being the cause of his death. And you were right from the start, saying that we shouldn't be more than patient-doctor. Because you've made me care about him and care too much about you and how this surgery affects… _everything. _It's more than just cutting him open and removing a tumor."

"Where's that attitude you had a while ago? The 'I'm going to fix him, Kate,' attitude? That's gotta be in there somewhere," she pushed.

"It is," he agreed. "I'll be fine when the time comes to do the surgery, I can promise you that. That attitude is just buried right now."

Jack set the table and Kate tested the food, surprised at how good the thrown-together meal was. When they were settled, Jack was decidedly still tense, his brows furrowed together, deep in thought.

"You've just gotta eliminate me from the picture," she started. "Forget about me and concentrate on Sam, like we've never met, like there aren't all of the consequences that you think there are. And then you operate on him, and get the tumor out, and save him."

Jack shook his head, amazed at how simple the situation could sound, but how impossible it would be for him to execute.

"I can't do that, just forget about you," he said. "You know that." He held her gaze again and she threw him a small smile. "You're stuck in this head of mine."

Secretly thrilled, Kate leaned her cheek into her palm, hoping to cover up the rosy tint that his compliments brought.

"You can do this, Jack. There's a reason we came to you. You're great. You fix people. You care. Maybe that's what's holding you back right now but don't doubt it. You're our last chance. There's not as much pressure involved with that as you think, because if you can't fix him, no one else can, and he'd be dead in a few months anyway."

Jack forced a half-smile. "Perspective, I guess."

Kate stood from the table, ending the internal debate if she should do what she was about to do. She had the overwhelming urge to hold him tight and tell him everything would be just fine. "Come here," she motioned.

He stood too, confused, taking a few hesitant steps toward her with his hands in his pockets. Standing like this, so close, she was reminded of his height again, imagining the way her head would lay against his chest, wondering how many heads taller than her he actually was.

"Don't overanalyze this too much, k?" she asked, not waiting for his reply, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body to his. She could hear his heart beat in an erratic pattern, her own breathing hitched until she felt his large arms wrap around her lower back and return the sentiment.

They stood for a long time, linked together in warmth and silence, until they had nothing left.

He was going to have trouble forgetting her.

* * *

Up next: Like I'm going to tell you that? ;)


	12. Kinda Crazy

See what a few well-placed reviews gets you? A super fast update! Thanks!

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Kinda Crazy

5 a.m. was early. Hardly able to keep her eyes open, Kate shuffled around the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug and wondered how Jack was able to stay conscious, and if he wouldn't be more alert at a later time.

She hadn't slept much the night before and knew Sam hadn't either. Fitful through the evening, she'd heard Sam toss and turn in the room across from hers, occasional sighs pouring from his mouth.

He was already dressed when she'd gone in to wake him, and now stood aimlessly in the kitchen while she prepared for a long day at the hospital.

"Least I get to be knocked out," he said, forcing out a chuckle.

Sidetracking his comment, Kate decided to use the opportunity to ask him about his adventure the afternoon before.

"So how was skydiving? All you imagined?"

Sam shook his head. "Scared the hell outta me. There's something not right about jumping out of a plane and expectin' everything to turn out okay."

Kate laughed, secretly happy that he'd taken the chance. Maybe if he survived all of this, he would lead a more active lifestyle. Maybe it would convince him to take advantage of opportunities.

"Well, it worked out, didn't it?"

He nodded. "Maybe this'll work out too. The surgery and everything. Even though we're not expecting it to."

"I'm expecting it to. So is Jack."

* * *

Sam's tumor was messy. Though he'd had scans as recently as the day before his operation, when he was opened up on the table, spinal cord exposed, it was worse than Jack expected.

Of course, that was precisely why Kate had pursued the doctor so vigorously; if anyone had a chance of successfully removing Sam's tumor, Jack did.

Sam and Kate were a breath of fresh air in a career filled with faces he could no longer remember. He often feared that he'd run in to a former patient and create an awkward scene while he tried to place them—what procedure he'd done, the result...

But some were worth remembering, and both Kate and Sam fell into the category. And if Sam's operation wasn't a success, they weren't a pair he would push aside into the little section of his brain where the rest of his failures hid. It would stick with him for a long time.

The mass surrounding the upper vertebrae was not the major problem—it was a pretty standard procedure. For three hours he meticulously freed the tumor with minimal complications. Most surgeons with any aptitude could perform the first steps of Sam's surgery, but because the tumor was also intertwined inside the cord, it complicated things immensely.

Inside the cord were what seemed like millions of nerves and support cells, bundled so tightly and so dangerous to toy with. One little slip and Sam could be paralyzed; one moment of distraction and he could be dead; one oversight and Jack could miss some of the tumor.

There was no room for a mistake.

The night before had gone well. He thought Kate had found their embrace just as therapeutic as he did. It had relaxed him regarding Sam's surgery, but it put ideas in his head about Kate. Having her molded against him, warm in his arms, her shallow breathing—how could he get that to happen again?

It was the first advance she'd made, and though she told him not to read too much into it, why else would she have done it? She'd left after they finally pulled apart, shooting him a shy glare. So focused from the start, Kate suddenly had a very human side to her, and Jack didn't know how to react to it. All he offered was a small wave and shut the door after her.

That morning in the lobby, he'd forced himself to look away from the two, but saw the tears on both of their faces, the hope in their eyes and the weight of their expectations on him.

He pushed aside those thoughts, concentrating once again on the task at hand—saving Sam.

An hour later and he'd nicked a group of nerves, cursed and rushed frantically to repair the damage, barking at the scrub nurses. Two additional surgeons joined him and he was thankful for the fresh sets of eyes and steady hands while he navigated through tissue and nerve endings and cut away at the tumor in small pieces.

His colleagues' confidence was waning; Jack had spent a significant amount of time in the same tiny area, trying to untangle part of the mass without disrupting Sam's mobility.

"Have you thought about closing him up and doing an additional surgery? This thing will take hours to get out, if we can even remove all of it. Look at it," Dr. Sullivan said.

Jack surveyed the mass and considered Dr. Sullivan's point. "It's too aggressive. We can't close him up and take the risk that it will spread even more. He's already weak from all the treatments, plus the recovery from the surgery. No," he said firmly, then got the attention of a scrub nurse.

"His daughter's out in the lobby. Around 30, long brown hair. Tell her that everything is going fine—"

"But—"

"Everything is fine. Tell her that."

He glared at Dr. Sullivan. The man had to know that sending Sam away with part of a malignant tumor in an unfavorable location in the spinal cord was a death sentence.

"They came to me for a reason," he started. "They know that I can save him. I'm their last chance," he said, at first wary of sounding egotistical, then deciding what he needed at that moment was a confidence boost. "Now if you don't wanna help me do that, I suggest you leave."

He received nods from both doctors.

"He's dead in a few months if we don't get this thing out of him. I promised him."

Adrenaline surged through him; he thought of the tumor as a series of accomplishments, one after the other, until there was nothing left.

* * *

Kate paced the waiting room along with other nervous family members of patients. The last update had come four hours ago, from a scared-looking nurse who hadn't been able to offer much information. When the door swung open, every head in the room snapped in that direction, a room full of people hoping for the best.

It was the same nurse, who asked her to follow her to the back, into the surgical suites. A feeling of dread swept over her; maybe the nurse brought her back here to tell her the bad news. Why wasn't Jack delivering it?

"What happened?" Kate asked, tears filling her eyes.

"He's out of surgery. Dr. Shephard isn't sure that he got all of the tumor. It was a very difficult procedure."

Kate leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, breathing a sigh of relief, the tears spilling over.

"He's okay?"

"Because he was under sedation for so long and his body was significantly weakened from the chemo and radiation, his vitals were pretty unstable. But he pulled through." The nurse finally cracked a smile and Kate joined in.

"Where's Jack? I mean Dr. Shephard," she corrected herself quickly. "Why isn't he out here?"

If the nurse was surprised by Kate's use of his first name, she didn't let on. "He's exhausted. Said he needed a minute. I'm sure you can go back and see him in a few. And your father."

* * *

Sam cracked his eyes open. He must be alive, because he was sure death would feel better than the pain radiating in his body, the heavy cloud of sedation weighing down on him.

Recovery wasn't anything like he watched on medical dramas. No one was there to greet him for his brief moment of conciousness, for one. And he couldn't find one of those fancy buttons to press to get the attention of an unrealistically beautiful nurse.

Maybe he would just go back to sleep.

* * *

"Hey," Kate said, startling Jack, where he sat slumped back in an armchair. He turned, sheepish smile on his face.

"Hey."

"When can I see him?" she asked, the tears in her eyes again. She wasn't sure they ever went away.

"He'll be in and out for most of the night. You can go in a few minutes if you want."

"Maybe I'll just peek in. Make sure he's still there."

Jack's laugh came out more like a croak. "I doubt he'll be moving for awhile."

The room was quiet and their moods were calm. Now that the surgery was over, she was unsure of what to say.

"Thank you," she managed, wiping her cheeks, aware that she'd cried more in front of him than anyone else. "I wasn't sure this would work out..."

Jack took the initiative, walking toward her even though his whole body ached and protested.

"I don't even know if I got it all, Kate. It was so damn hard to see, and he'd been under for so long..."

"Do you _think _you got it all? Just... what was your gut reaction when you closed him up?"

He met her stare, noticing how green her eyes were, thinking how unfortunate it was that the color was because of tears.

Jack knew he wouldn't have stopped unless deep down, he was sure.

"I got it all."

She believed him.

For the second time in less than 24 hours, Kate was in his arms, and it no longer mattered how exhausted he was. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the man who saved her father, who did something everyone else had told her wasn't worth trying.

Jack found himself getting choked up, relieved that his part was over with, that Sam might just be okay, that now he didn't have to be Jack the surgeon.

"Jack..." she whispered, grasping his shoulders, nuzzling her forehead against his cheek, feeling the scratchy whiskers pressed against her soft skin, drawing in a shaky breath. She was completely overwhelmed. "Without you..."

Accepting her thanks was much easier than denying them. "I'm happy for you," he said. "I would've-- I would've hated to have been the one..."

"Shh," she interrupted him, pressing her index finger to his lips, resisting the magnetism between them as best she could. There was a pull at their faces and she could feel his breath...

"I'm crazy right now, so don't read too much into this either..."

He wanted to pull back when her lips touched his-- softly, so briefly he had to remind himself that it happened-- and tell her she was crazy. But what fun would that be?

* * *

Up next: Is Sam really out of the woods? And what was with Kate kissing Jack?!?


	13. Secrets

Thanks for your reviews! I hope you keep them coming. The story really picks up from here.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Secrets

For the first time in three days, Sam felt clear-headed. The haze of narcotics now mostly gone, he could finally think. He didn't want to complain about being alive, because hell, no one expected him to be, even him, but he had _too_ much time on his hands. Confined to his hospital bed, he wondered if the surgery was worth it, or if the cancer would come back, or if Dr. Shephard was able to remove it all in the first place. Immobile for the most part, the hospital staff had told him they couldn't take new scans until Sam was able to be transported to the machine. That was supposed to happen tomorrow.

But mostly, he thought of his conversation with Dr. Holland that morning. Surprised to be woken from his morning nap—sleep was all he did lately—Sam was met by his oncologist, who he hadn't seen since a week before the surgery.

"Guess I've gotta be wrong sometimes," she'd joked, referring to her hesitance to continue treating him.

From there, she'd gone straight to business.

"I'm very happy that Dr. Shephard was able to complete the surgery," she said. "But there's still a big issue here, and that's your liver. I've heard you're supposed to get new CT scans tomorrow, so we'll look at the status of the liver tumors then. We'll want to do an abdominal ultrasound, too."

"Do I have to start that damn chemo and radiation again?" he'd asked her, through with being poked and prodded.

"Maybe. And if you do, we're going to keep you at the same dose, to aggressively fight the tumors, or at least keep them at bay. They're manageable right now, but I don't want to see them get any worse."

"What do you mean maybe I'll go back on chemo and maybe I won't?"

Dr. Holland hesitated, drawing a sharp breath but no words escaping her mouth. Finally, "Remember when you were first diagnosed with the liver cancers and I told you they were our second priority, behind the spine?"

On Sam's nod, she continued. "Now that the spinal tumors are most likely taken care of, or at least small enough that we could continue to treat them, we need to face the reality in the liver. The tumors there are localized but are now unresectable, meaning that a surgeon most likely wouldn't be able to remove the entire mass without doing severe, irreparable damage to the organ."

After so much treatment and one extremely risky surgery, this was the last sort of news Sam wanted to hear. Hadn't his luck just about run out?

The man let out a deep sigh; he wished that doctors weren't always so concerned with his feelings and would go straight to the point instead.

"I'm no doctor, but can't the liver like… regrow itself or something?"

Dr. Holland nodded. "The liver is the only organ in the body that can regenerate itself. What we can start now is to get you on the UNOS list and keep the tumors under control with your treatments. Then when a liver becomes available, we give you the transplant you need."

"Seriously?" Sam managed, dreading the upcoming tests and money a transplant would surely require. "It's that bad?"

Dr. Holland nodded morosely. "Well, there is another option, and that's what's called a living transplant. Basically, we take a portion of the living-related donor's liver and give it to you. There are a myriad of tests that determine if someone is a match to you."

"Living-related?" Sam managed, coming to a conclusion he didn't want to. "As in family?"

"Usually a family member is the best option if they're a match, but it doesn't have to be. If someone meets the requirements, passes a batch of tests and is willing to donate part of their liver to you, then they're just as good."

Sam dropped his forehead into his hands. "Where do we start? With the whole living-related thing?"

Dr. Holland stood up, jotting some notes on Sam's chart. "Well, we'd start with a blood test to determine if the living-related potential donor's blood is compatible with your type. And we take it from there."

"And what about the first thing you talked about. UNOS, or whatever? How long does that take?"

Dr. Holland shifted on her feet, unsure. "It depends. It can take a month, or it can take years. And we don't want it to take years. Do you have anyone you're willing to ask for a partial donation?"

Sam gave a vague, "Maybe."

Knowing his luck, Sam thought after saying goodbye to Dr. Holland, Kate would be a match. She'd already given him enough. He didn't want to take anything else.

* * *

Kate had deliberately avoided every chance of being alone with Jack that presented itself since she'd kissed him after Sam's surgery. She was having a difficult time wrapping her head around it—why had she been so bold? It was embarrassing.

To Jack's credit, he'd chosen to focus on Sam's recovery and answering any questions they might have, instead of teasing her about the kiss. But she knew the peace wouldn't last forever, and while she mostly dreaded the imminent conversation, there was a small part of her that couldn't wait to get it over with.

Sam had sensed a new layer of awkwardness between them. It hadn't taken him long to return to his normal, wisecracking self, but so far he hadn't questioned them. Kate was waiting for that, too. The man could only keep his emotions bottled up for so long, before they tended to burst out of him at the most inappropriate times.

Over the past few days she'd grown to memorize the décor of the hospital—pale green walls, spotless white tile, that smell that never quite went away, a certain doctor who never quite went away…

She strode quickly through the first floor, eyeing the elevator, thankful she was the only one waiting. She was in no mood to be crammed inside with a bunch of other bodies.

When the silver doors opened, she took a step in, and came face to face with Jack. It was precisely the type of situation she'd been aiming to avoid.

Deciding that smacking her hand against her forehead or running off the elevator weren't the best solutions, she offered a meager "Hi," instead.

"Twelfth floor?" he asked, and on Kate's affirmation, pressed the circular button. "Sam's doing better today. I'm hoping we'll be able to get him moving a bit tomorrow so we can get him to the CT, see if there's anything left in the spine."

"Okay," Kate said, avoiding his eyes, afraid of what she'd do now that they were alone again. "That's good."

The elevator crept upward, even more slowly than Kate had anticipated it would feel. Why couldn't she think of anything to say?

"So, uh… can I ask you something?" Jack said, planning to go ahead even if she said no.

Kate knew what was coming; her heart began to race and she glanced at her fingernails, hoping to find something to distract her.

"Depends. If it's what I think you're going to ask about, then no."

Ignoring her request, Jack forced his question out. "About the other afternoon—after Sam's surgery."

Kate remained silent. Jack hoped he wouldn't have to spell it out for her, but she wasn't budging.

"You kissed me."

Her eyes were now closed. Maybe if she pretended it wasn't happening, she wouldn't have to deal with it.

"Okay," Jack sighed. "Do you happen to be feeling anything about that? Because_ I_ feel like you're going to try to back out of it, say that you were 'too emotional,' or whatever excuse you've thought up. And I'm telling you right now that I won't believe it for a second."

"I _was _too emotional!" Kate retorted.

Jack shrugged and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, casually. "I don't believe it, just like I told you."

"I _told _you not to read too much into it," Kate spat, crossing her arms in front of her. Why'd he have to be so stubborn?

"Oh yeah, you're right. All of my patients' family members kiss me after I finish operating," Jack said sarcastically. "It's standard etiquette."

"Shut up," she muttered, unwilling to admit she found his comments amusing.

"I can't explain it—"

"I can," Jack cut in, pressing the 'close doors' button when they'd reached the twelfth floor, effectively trapping Kate with him. He stood in front of her, using his height to his advantage, closer than two people might normally stand in an elevator.

"I saved your father, just like I promised you I would, and yeah, you were really happy about that. I get it. But that's not why you kissed me. It's this whole combination of things that you won't let yourself feel, Kate, but now you can't use the excuse that anything happening between us would cause a distraction. Now you're even more freaked out that something's gonna happen, and you're just too stubborn to admit that I could make your life better."

His words were harsh, and made Kate want to shrink into a ball and cry. Coupled with Sam's recovery, her limitations were being tested.

"Wanna tell me what other character flaws I have? Or are you done?" She glared at him. Perhaps since she couldn't defend herself against anything he said had made his words hurt more. The truth hurt.

"They're—they're not always flaws. I'm not trying to insult you, I'm just trying to get you to see that there's something to this. I'm not completely crazy, despite the fact that I've basically trapped you inside an elevator. I wanted to say all of that before you could write me off or avoid me like you've been doing for the past few days. Obviously I'm okay with what happened the other day. Happy about it, even."

Absorbing his words and deciding he really meant no harm, Kate gave him a firm nod. "Okay."

Jack sighed, fearing his speech had little effect. "That's it? _Okay_?"

A hint of a smile finally appeared on Kate's lips as Jack let the elevator doors open to the twelfth floor. "Yeah. For now."

"You," Jack said airily, "are the most frustrating person I've ever met."

* * *

Jack waited until he was sure Kate had left Sam's room for the day before he went in to have a talk with the man.

"Dr. Shephard, my hero," Sam joked when he saw the doctor walk through the door. "You just missed Kate."

"I know," he replied, checking Sam's IVs.

"She told me the two of you kissed."

Jack stopped in his tracks, doubtful that Kate would say such a thing when she could hardly admit it to herself.

Flustered, he blurted out, "What?"

Sam laughed, and if the circumstances were different Jack would've been glad to hear it.

"Nah, I'm just kidding. I got one of the nurses to rat you out. Said she saw you in the break room. Can't say I'm surprised though."

If Sam was surprised, then Jack had no idea how to react. It was something he'd never experienced—a woman's father wanting him to be his daughter so badly. Usually it was the other way around.

"I won't tease you about it too much. Just wanted to tell you that I knew."

"Okay," Jack said, trying to brush off the comment and how uncomfortable it made him. "Now about your visit with Dr. Holland… I'm guessing she's told you what's coming up?"

Sam sighed; he'd only just managed to forget about that. "Yeah. Guess you guys have been having little powwows behind my back?"

"Never," Jack joked. "When does she want to operate on the tumors?"

Sam cocked his head back, shocked that Jack wasn't up-to-date on his prognosis. "She just told me that they couldn't remove the tumors with damaging my liver too much. She's putting me on the UNOS list, Dr. Shephard. And something about a living-related donor—"

"Kate?" he asked, stunned at the news. Last time he'd talked to Dr. Holland, she'd made it seem like the operation to remove the tumors would be a simple one.

"Who else? If she's a match, and if she's willing to do it."

Maybe that would explain her silence in the elevator. Maybe she'd already found out somehow.

"Does she know?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't wanna ask her. It's the _last_ thing I want to do."

"Wow," Jack said. Right then he realized how much he cared for Kate. He was scared for her and what she'd have to go through if she ended up being a match for Sam. "When are you going to bring this up?"

"I dunno. I'm stalling as long as I can. And I know that you're getting closer with her, but I don't want you telling her either. I need you to pretend like everything's fine."

As if it was the theme of the night, Jack nodded his head, giving Sam the chance to tell Kate himself. "Okay."

* * *

Up next: Kate admits some things to Jack. And will she find out about Sam's liver dilemma? ;)


	14. Matchmaker

Thanks for your reviews! You know what to do to keep the chapters coming... :)

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Matchmaker

There was no casual way to ask someone what their blood type was, Jack had determined. Without accosting Kate about her medical history, he'd have no way to figure out if she could be a match to Sam. And the blood type was only the first step— she'd have to undergo several more tests before being cleared for a surgery. And even if she was a match, there was a chance that something could go wrong in the OR, or maybe Sam's body would reject the new liver.

He didn't like to think about everything that could go wrong.

Jack sighed and sipped from his coffee cup. He'd been restless lately and couldn't sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Swirling thoughts clouded him; his mind wasn't at peace.

In medical terms, he knew if Kate had the surgery there was a relatively low chance of something life-threatening happening to her. She was young and healthy and would most likely have a fast recovery. But now he was attached to Sam, too, and there was more than one person to worry about.

Glancing at his watch, Jack rose and stretched. 9 a.m. Time for Sam's CT. Time to see how successful— or unsuccessful— his surgery went.

Earlier that morning he had woken Sam and prompted him to stand. The man was slow to it, and stiff, and Jack pretended not to notice when he grimaced in pain, but he'd managed to shuffle a few feet across the floor. He was healing nicely considering how beaten down his body was and how weak his immune system had become.

He ran into Sam and a nurse in the pristine hallway, where Sam was being pushed in a wheelchair to another wing of the hospital where the CT was.

"Nervous, Doc?"

Jack laughed. Sam was never too sick to make jokes.

"A little," he admitted. "Aren't you?"

Sam gave a noncommittal shrug. "Figured you're the best. And I didn't die in surgery like I thought I would. Thanks for that."

Tempted to bring up his liver condition, Jack bit his tongue. Now wasn't the time. When they figured out what Sam's prognosis was with the spinal tumor, he would talk to him about when he planned to tell Kate.

The nurse wheeled Sam into the room that held the CT machine. Jack fell behind and took a seat in an adjoining room beside the tech who would read the scan. The prep seemed to take forever, and Jack tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair, ignoring the annoyed glares he was getting from the young tech.

After the surgery he told Kate he was sure he'd removed the entire tumor. But as he sat there, waiting and waiting, he'd never doubted himself more.

* * *

"It's basically gone," he told Kate later that day.

Her face broke into a grin. "You got the whole thing?"

"Well, most of it. There are still a few small areas—"

Sam interrupted. "What he's trying to say is that there a two tiny, tiny pieces left about the size of atoms," he joked. "They're gonna keep me on a lower dose of the chemo. Dr. Holland seems to think that'll do the trick."

Part of her didn't want to believe that Sam was cured, didn't believe it could be true. But another part— smaller, but still there— could see that he was healing, that there was one less tumor ravaging his body.

"And the liver? What did Dr. Holland say about that?"

On Sam's hesitation, she looked to Jack. He didn't reassure her.

"I haven't been updated," he said unconvincingly. "Right now I only know that his spine is pretty much in the clear and I didn't get the chance to talk to Dr. Holland." He went through his explanation hastily, eager to exit before the situation blew up. "Aside from checkups, she's going to be his primary doctor from now on, which is a good thing. Means he has one less thing wrong with him..."

Kate saw the look shared between the two men. "What's going on? There has to be a plan with the liver tumors. What? More chemo, more radiation?"

Jack glared at Sam one last time, resisting the urge to say, "TELL HER!"

"I'm gonna go call Dr. Holland," he lied. "So I'll see the both of you later."

Waiting until Jack had cleared the room, Kate snapped her head around. "You're not telling me something."

Sam closed his eyes, unsure if he had the nerve to tell her of his situation. "Yeah... I talked to Dr. Holland the other day. She told me that my prognosis is not... it's not good," he managed.

Tears welled in her eyes. Why couldn't anything go right? What if, after everything she'd pushed him to go through with, it was his damn liver that killed him instead of his spine? All that hell, and for what? Nothing.

"It's untreatable? They absolutely can't do anything?"

"It's not that." Sam shook his head. "It's just that... the options I do have, I don't want to do— I _can't_ do."

Kate tensed and prepared to fight her father again. Why was he so unwilling to fight for himself? Why did she always have to be the bad guy?

"If you have options, you're taking one of them," she said. "Look what you've already made it through. Whatever this is— surgery, more chemo, a trial, whatever—you can make it through it. You're tough."

_Dad_, she wanted to tack on to the end of the sentence, but held back.

Weary and tired already from the activity, Sam rubbed his temples. "You have to know that this is the last thing I want and somehow I know that you won't take no for an answer no matter what I do, so here it goes... Dr. Holland told me that the tumors on my liver are 'unresectable' and if she tried to remove them it would do too much damage. So instead they wanna take the whole damn thing out, which makes no sense to me—"

"A liver transplant?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. But the thing is, Dr. Holland doesn't want me to be on both chemo and radiation for too much longer, says my body will start breaking down even more. And when they put you on UNOS, I guess that kind of thing can take a long time. Time that I apparently don't have to waste."

Admittedly, Kate knew very little about anything medical. Most of what she knew was from TV, and the episodes tended to deal with strange, unlikely cases.

"So how are you supposed to get a liver if she doesn't want to put you on the list? Seems a little illogical."

Dropping a heavy sigh, Sam decided it was now or never. "They wanna do a live-donor transplant and I guess the best chance for a match can be in a family member—"

"What do I have to do?" Kate asked. "Tests, what? Anything."

She was struck with how quickly she'd volunteered herself, and what that said about her relationship with Sam. When she first arrived in L.A. she would have hesitated immensely to have part of her liver cut out. Now she didn't give it a second thought. Sam was no longer a stranger, and basically the only family she had. She would do what it took to make sure he made a full recovery.

Her father cocked his head back, clearly surprised. "I didn't think you'd take to this whole idea so easily. It's a big deal, Kate. They cut you open and take out at least half of your liver..."

"I don't care," she said. "If that's what I need to do, I'll do it. Where's Jack? I wanna talk to him about this."

She thought back to when the three of them were in the room together, and the looks Sam and Jack were giving each other. Jack knew. He had to.

He knew that Sam was going to ask for half of her liver and didn't even tell her about it. Didn't warn her.

Reading her anger, Sam said, "Don't blame this on him. I made him promise not to tell you."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking? Not telling me that Sam needs a new fucking liver? And from me?"

Jack jumped and stopped eating his lunch. "Umm, how did you find me?"

"Your receptionists are stupid, Jack. I'm not. Anyway, here I am, and there you are, eating that sandwich all innocently."

Practically choking on a bite—"Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you tell me? I know you knew."

Motioning with his hands for her to calm down, Jack said, "That wasn't up to me to decide. I wanted to, believe me, but I bit my tongue, Kate. I think he should've told you right when he found out, not because it's you he's asking... but because you've been with him for the hardest parts of this whole thing."

If she had to pick one of Jack's best traits, she'd pick his sincerity, she decided. He looked hurt at her accusation that he was playing a game with Sam and withholding information by choice.

"Okay," she said, "I didn't mean to get on your case, but I'm frustrated with Sam and wondering why he couldn't just ask me. He knows I'll do it."

Jack nodded. "Maybe that's what he's afraid of."

"I'm assuming this has to be fast… How do we figure out if we're compatible or whatever?"

Standing, Jack led her into his office for more privacy. Hospital gossip was his least favorite part of the job.

"This isn't really my field, but I know the basics. It starts with blood type. Certain types are compatible with others in transplants, but your blood types don't necessarily have to be identical. If you get past that stage, you'd go through a variety of tests mainly focusing on the anatomy of your liver and the general health. Sam's entire liver would be removed and replaced with the portion, usually about half, of yours. We can get all of the testing arranged..."

Suddenly the thoughts of all the poking and prodding surely involved in these 'tests' left her mind. She had the chance to do something great, lifesaving, even, and she'd be stupid not to try, she thought.

"Do you know Sam's blood type? Or what type could be compatible to his?"

"Not offhand, no. Hold on a sec, I'll go grab his chart."

He left her sitting there, alone in his office, surveying the mostly blank walls and sparse decorations. If she'd never talked to Jack, never spent so much time with him, she would have thought he was rather uninspired. Except for a few certificates, there were almost no signs of his achievements. Wasn't he supposed to bring prospective patients into his office to convince them he was their best choice for a surgeon?

And what blood type was she anyway? O? A? How many types of blood _were_ there?

Jack walked back into the office briskly, Sam's chart in hand. "He's B positive."

"So what does that mean?"

Squinting in thought, Jack tried to call on the types of blood compatibility. "B positive... that means he can receive... B positive, B negative, O positive and O negative."

They sat in silence, and Jack knew right away that the transplant wasn't going to work. He forced himself to ask, "Do you know your type?"

He saw a tear roll down her cheek and tried his best to ignore it, tried not to pull her to him, comfort her and tell her everything would be alright. That might be a lie…

"A positive, I think. A _something_ for sure, but either way that doesn't work."

Jack shook his head. "No, it doesn't. Kate, I'm sorry... I know that you wanted to help your dad—"

"So I'm not a match? Definitely?"

Maybe there was some sort of test they could do, she thought. Maybe a transplant didn't have to _entirely _depend on blood type.

He shook his head again, seriously, his eyes full of apologies. "You're not a match."

* * *

Up next: Uh oh, what's gonna happen to Sam?


	15. It's Not a One Way Street

I'm surprised that so few of you guessed this next part. Makes me kinda happy though, hopefully I'm doing a good job with the plot! Thanks for your reviews, and as always, keep them coming! I appreciate them very much!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

It's Not a One Way Street

"I haven't seen much of you lately, Dr. Shephard," Kate said coyly upon her arrival to Sam's hospital room. Jack had been reviewing the man's chart again, concerned that something would suddenly change and prevent him from receiving a liver.

"Just… busy, I guess," he said vaguely, wondering why Kate was in such a good mood. Dr. Holland had just placed Sam on the UNOS list, and since he was still getting treatment for the liver tumors and they seemed to be under control, it looked like it would be a long time before he would have any hope for a transplant.

It was true he hadn't seen much of Kate or Sam lately, but he thought it was for the best. Shaken by the fact Kate wasn't a match, Jack had dedicated himself to finding a liver for Sam. If they knew the time he was taking, the things he was pushing aside—hopefully for their benefit—neither Sam nor Kate would accept it. Both thought that if any special attention was paid to them, they were being a bother.

But that wasn't how Jack thought of it at all—they were the first people in a long time that he'd sincerely cared for. Why shouldn't he do everything possible to ensure they'd be around for a long time?

If Sam died, Jack doubted, even with a new job and a stable income, that Kate would stay in L.A. She wasn't the type to stick around in a place that hadn't done much good for her. If Sam was gone, so was she.

So there was more on the line than just wanting Sam to live. He wanted Kate, too.

"Yeah, now that ya fixed me you can't even stop by and say hi?" Sam said, an ornery look crossing his features. "I know there's all this talk about bedside manner…"

"Alright, alright," Jack said lightly, letting a smile slip past his lips. "What do you want me to do? Bring you lunch? Cut up your food, take you to the bathroom?"

Noticing the glare Sam shot Jack, Kate laughed. It was nice to see both of the men let loose. Jack was entirely too serious about life in general, she thought.

Ignoring his comments, Sam asked, "Have you heard anything else from Dr. Holland? About UNOS?"

Jack shook his head, but didn't have the heart to tell him he was in bad condition, but not bad enough. There were so many people on the list with a higher priority than him…

"It's only been two days, Sam. You might have to show a little more patience," he joked, then turned serious. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything though, but you should probably check in with Dr. Holland about this, not me. I'm just the spine guy."

Sam nodded and the two made small talk while Jack examined him. Kate watched from the corner, her arms folded across her chest.

"Stand up," Jack said, raising his eyebrows when Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed and settled on his feet quickly.

"I'm impressed," he said, then checked the incision and redressed the wound. "How's the pain?"

"Dull most of the time. But I have this nice little drug pusher when I need more," he joked, and grabbed the button he could push to dispense more pain medication into his IV.

"Well, everything still looks fine. We'll see about discharging you in the next few days. You're healing pretty well."

Sam gave him a firm nod before Jack escorted Kate out of the room, his hand on the small of her back.

* * *

Once out in the hallway, Jack's mood was no longer light.

"I'm worried about him being on that list," he sighed. "The last thing we want is him being on chemo for the next two years while we wait for a liver. I've been working on this nonstop, Kate. I have to find a way to make this happen faster."

She rolled her eyes. She was worried about Sam too, but what more did Jack think he could do? "You don't have to pull strings or bend the rules, or anything that could get you into trouble, Jack," she hissed, aware of Sam's hyper hearing.

"I'm not gonna lose my license or steal a liver from someone else who deserves it just as much as Sam does. But there has to be a way to get him higher up…"

"Doesn't him getting a liver depend on quite a few things? Like how long he's been on the list, yeah, but stuff like the distance from the available organ to the patient in need, and how organs match up?"

"Well, yeah," Jack huffed. He didn't want to be egotistical, but he assumed he knew more about this sort of thing than Kate.

"So we can hope, right? We can hope that he gets lucky and gets something fast, and that it works. You're making it sound like he's already dead."

"I'm sorry… I'm not trying to sound morbid, but I want to be realistic and find any chance that he has. Wouldn't you rather this was over with?"

Kate half-smiled. Jack's concern for her father was touching, however annoyed she might be. "There's no point in him getting a liver fast if it's not the right one, or everything isn't done just right. That could be worse than being on the list for two years."

She wanted to shift the focus off of Sam for just one minute of her afternoon. He followed her everywhere—at work, at home when she was reading in bed, when she was on the phone with a client. It was nice to think about something else every once in awhile.

"I seem to remember a certain bet being placed," she started, and saw a blush rise to his cheeks. She was thrilled _she _wasn't the one doing the blushing for once. "Before you did the operation… something about me having to 'give you a chance,' or something like that. Where's all that talk been lately?"

When Jack had brought up the idea, it sort of horrified her that he could put stakes on such a serious matter. But now that his part was over with, there was a sudden genius behind the bet. She didn't mind that he was so determined to find Sam a liver; it bothered her that he wasn't happy he could only fix one part of Sam.

And if she remembered anything he'd said before, back when he was confident, he told her he would make her happy if she gave him the chance. She remembered thinking she could do the same for him.

"That was… that was before," he said lamely, and laughed pathetically when Kate gave him a look that agreed.

"Before what?" she pushed, suddenly finding the nerve to drive him to all the uncomfortable levels he'd brought her to in the past. "Before you saved my father's life? Before you did what no one else would even try? Before you did all of these things that should only make me _want _to date you?"

Catching onto her plan, Jack let Sam slip out of his mind for a moment. "No, it's not any of that. I told you I would fix him, and I will. His liver is part of that. So I guess I don't think working out our dating schedule is the most important thing to concentrate on right now."

Kate nodded nonchalantly, ready to launch her plan. "So what if I told you that one of our authors is very interested in me?"

Without hesitation, Jack said, "I'd ask Marc about it."

"Oh, go ahead. Marc loves him, too."

Jack shook his head, tempted to laugh. "You're making this up to get me to take you out somewhere! You're trying to freak me out!"

He didn't have to admit that he was.

Kate laughed. "No I'm not. I'm just saying, you know, if you don't take the opportunity there might not be one anymore."

"I don't get you. One minute you refuse to have anything to do with me and think I'm easily 'distracted' and the next you're shoving some fictional guy in my face? What am I supposed to think?"

Kate rolled her eyes, a trait Jack found as endearing as any. "You're _supposed _to be jealous. And he's not fictional. You don't think other guys find me as interesting as you do?"

"No," he said indignantly, seeing that he was going to lose this battle and might as well go with Kate's wishes. "Fine, do you want to go to dinner on Friday?"

"Oh, you're melting my heart, Jack. I can tell you mean it _so_ much," she said with fake bravado. "But it's a date."

She left Jack standing in the hallway, baffled by the sentence he never thought he'd hear her say. _It's a date_.

* * *

"Dr. Shephard, back for more I see?"

"You can call me Jack," he told the nurse, Trisha, for the tenth time.

"Sorry," she blushed. "Habit."

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

Trisha had worked at St. Sebastian's for more than a year; working closely with Jack, he'd always thought she'd had a bit of a crush on him. But he trusted her, and she was good at her job. And right now, he needed someone who would stay out of the hospital gossip circle.

Trisha flipped through Jack's chart. "Last time was the initial blood test and tissue-typing. Your antigens and Sam's were a very close match, but you already know that."

Jack nodded. When it turned out Kate couldn't donate to Sam, Jack knew that he would be a likely candidate because of his blood type and good medical history. But he didn't want to pull the cart before the horse and get either Sam's or Kate's hopes up.

"Then we did crossmatching yesterday. It was negative," she said. "Sam's sample didn't attack your white blood cells, so it's looking fairly likely that you'll be a good match for him, especially given your similar body types."

Jack wanted to roll his eyes, though he knew Trisha had just made a habit of filling her patients in on their testing—whether they were a doctor or a regular patient.

"You've cleared your schedule, right? Because you can't move for a few hours after the hepatic angiogram."

Jack nodded. He'd known that was what they'd scheduled for the day, but didn't look forward to it. He had a surprising dread of medical procedures. A dye would be injected into an artery and X-rays would be taken to show the mapping of the blood vessels in his liver. It wasn't that the procedure was all that frightening or invasive—Jack just didn't want to think about what might come after. He wasn't altogether sure why he was putting himself through this. It must be kind of crazy if he was trying to keep it a secret.

"Put this on," Trisha said, handing him a gown. "I'll go get Dr. Holland. Be right back."

Jack changed into the gown, thankful that Dr. Holland had agreed to do the testing on him without telling Sam. They weren't doing anything wrong, but he was sure that Sam would like to know whose samples were being mixed with his to determine a match.

Half an hour later, after he'd returned from X-ray and been through the procedure, Dr. Holland appeared in the doorway of his outpatient room. He'd have to rest there for a few hours before he could head home.

"Good news," she said. "We'll do a CT tomorrow to confirm and get a 3-D image of your liver, but I think this is it. Your health history, your tissue matches, the anatomy of your liver… you're the perfect match."

* * *

Up next: Will Jack decide to go through with the liver transplant? And what happens when Kate and Sam find out?


	16. Kissing Kate

Thanks for your reviews, glad for the genuine surprise from some of you. :) I think you'll mostly like this chapter... Keep the reviews coming, please, they're a pleasure to read!

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Kissing Kate

"Looking a little worse for the wear, Dr. Shephard."

Snapping Jack out of his revery, Sam smiled at him, full of his typical ornery behavior. Jack would admit he hadn't been looking his best. His body, not used to being poked and prodded, seemed to have an unusual response to all of the tests he'd had. He was more tired than usual, and his tanned complexion had dulled just a little. It was mostly mental, he thought.

His fatigue, paired with the decision he was facing– whether he should let Sam know he could donate his liver to him– hadn't made the past few days the easiest.

When he'd woken that morning, prepared to check on Sam and discharge him, he'd made the decision that he would have that tough conversation with Sam. It would be better to tell him, Jack had thought, when he was out of the hospital and back at home, where he had some chance of distraction.

But now that he'd gotten the chance to think about it, Jack had managed to work up the courage to talk to Sam. He would have him sign the discharge papers, then deliver the news. Hopefully it would all happen before Kate arrived.

"Working too hard," Jack said. "Your fault."

Sam smiled again, but Jack saw the hint of fear in his eyes, behind the front he put up. He announced that he was optimistic, and that Jack wouldn't have been able to remove such a difficult tumor if he was meant to die anyway. But Sam wasn't the type to be unrealistic. He knew as well as Jack did that something could easily go wrong, and once he went downhill it would be hard to get back up.

"Looks like today's your lucky day," Jack said, thinking '_In more ways than one..._' "Like we talked about yesterday, you've healed up nicely and you get to go home today."

"Finally," Sam said. "I think these nurses are getting mighty sick of me."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Are you sure it's not the other way around? Aren't you sick of being babied?"

Sam paused. "Doc, I'm sick of being poked and prodded. I don't think I'd ever get sick of a few of these beautiful nurses..."

Jack laughed, thankful for a route into a less serious conversation. "What about... Macy, was it? That girlfriend of yours Kate's told me about? I thought I've seen her around a few times."

"Marcia," he corrected him. "And she's... well, that's complicated. If we're gonna play this game, how goes it with you and my daughter?"

"Well," Jack hesitated, before cracking a smile, "that's complicated too."

Sam sighed dramatically while filling out portions of the discharge papers. "She likes you."

"I know. And just how many times are we gonna have this conversation?" Jack was past the point of being uncomfortable discussing a possible relationship between he and Kate with Sam, but that didn't change the fact that Sam hadn't been able to speed up the process. He'd had almost no results except indirectly, of course, because if Sam didn't have a life-threatening tumor, he and Kate would've never met in the first place...

"As many times as it takes."

Shifting in the bed, Sam handed the clipboard back to Jack.

"Can I have my clothes back?" he asked, pulling at the thin fabric of his gown. " I'm sick of this flimsy thing and people getting a peak at what they shouldn't..."

Jack glanced over the papers, careful to make sure everything was in place. "Yeah, I'll go round up everything that Kate hasn't already taken back."

"Call her, will you? She's gonna need to pick me up..."

Jack nodded and asked the nurse, Trisha, to find Sam's belongings. She took the clipboard from him, and eyed him, mouthing, "Tell him."

Was he really that transparent?

"Trisha's gonna grab your stuff, but there's something I wanted to talk to you about–"

"Nothing good ever follows that..."

Jack sighed. Now or never. Well, not never, but the chance of getting Sam alone to talk after his discharge was slim. "You know how I've been telling you I'm trying to find a liver for you? I found one."

Previously uninterested in their conversation, Sam's head suddenly snapped up. "You found one? Already?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah."

"Don't sound so excited," Sam said sarcastically. "I thought this was a good thing?"

Never mind the fact that Jack hadn't entirely convinced himself that donating his liver to Sam was a good thing... He _knew _it was a good idea, but wasn't sure if it was the _right _idea. It was too complicated.

"It is," Jack said. "It's a very good thing, and all signs point to the liver being a very, very, good match."

Light in his eyes, Sam appeared more excited than he had when Jack told him the spinal tumor surgery was successful. "Okay, so when is this gonna happen? When will we do the transplant? It has to be soon, right?"

"That's a little unclear right now," Jack lied. "You don't _have _to have the surgery as soon as possible, but that would be ideal."

Sam tossed his hands in the air. "I don't get it, Jack. There's a liver that is a match, that's available, yet we can't schedule a surgery? What's so confusing about this?"

"It's mine," Jack blurted out. "The liver that's a match... it's mine."

Stuttering a few times, Sam could think of nothing to say. On one hand, he'd be crazy to pass up a good match. On the other, it was _Jack. _

"I've only known for a few days. I just– I didn't know if this was the best–"

"You don't have to do this. You're probably not _supposed_ to do this," Sam stressed. "I can't– I can't take this from you."

Sam's rejection was the spark Jack needed to assure himself donating part of his liver was the right thing to do. Sam didn't have a large circle of friends, or much family. Jack was certain he was the only person other than Kate who would willingly donate without being dead first...

"Yes, you can. The surgery... it's not that big of a deal. It's safe, it has improved a lot within recent years. I'll be fine. I''m healthy."

Underscoring the seriousness of the surgery was the only way Jack could think to get the upper hand.

"I've been thinking about it," Sam said. "And there are some guys at work who might be matches... who might not mind..."

He knew it was a weak argument.

"Guys older than you?" Jack asked. "Who probably don't take such great care of themselves?"

Sam looked offended. "You're saying I did this to myself?"

"I'm _saying _that our match is very good and it's unlikely that one of those guys will provide a better one. And I want to do this for you. For you and Kate."

"She won't like this, you know."

Jack sighed, anticipating the reaction Kate would supply. At the very least, it might be entertaining.

"I know."

"I'm not sure I like this either," Sam said. "You've already done plenty for me, Jack. More than most people would even try..."

"Don't argue with me about this, because this is the chance you need to get healthy and be there for Kate. Neither of us want to see you gone because you're too stubborn to take what you deserve."

Trisha appeared in the room, hesitating in the doorway before Jack waved her in. "We were just talking about the transplant," Jack told her.

Handing him a bag full of his belongings, Trisha smiled genuinely. "Glad to hear it." She could easily sense that Sam was having a tough time dealing with the news. "Don't worry about Dr. Shephard. He'll be fine. He's in good hands. So are you."

Jack flashed the woman a grateful smile as she left the room. "Could you call Kate? Tell her Sam needs to be picked up?" he called after her.

"Jack, I still don't think this is right..."

"Don't tell Kate," Jack warned him. "At least not right now. Let's get the surgery scheduled and then you can tell her. Or I can tell her. Whatever."

"This isn't right," Sam repeated. "This isn't how everything was supposed to happen."

Unfolding his arms from across his chest, Jack settled into the armchair by Sam's bed. "Do you have any other choice?"

* * *

Oblivious to both Jack's and Sam's foul moods when Sam was discharged, Kate had convinced Jack to go out with her that night. He reluctantly agreed when Sam piped in and said Jack should follow through on the promises he made.

_If she only knew,_ Jack thought. _She would hate me right now._

Kate insisted they go to Jack's place instead of out to dinner like Jack wanted. In case he slipped and ended up telling her about the transplant, he wanted to be somewhere public.

And for once, even though Kate was sitting beside him on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, wrapped up in some story from work, he wasn't thinking about her. He was thinking about Sam. And a little about himself.

"So I told Marc there was no way that I would fly across the country for a book fair when my dad is this sick."

Jack nodded, his stare fixed on one of her earrings, thoughts elsewhere.

"Then Brad Pitt walked into our office and started showing me pictures of all his kids and offered me a ride on his motorcycle."

Jack nodded again, broken from his trance only by the hard punch Kate served him on his bicep.

"Hey!"

"Hey you! Pay attention! What's wrong?"

Hesitation was a red flag, he reminded himself, and Kate was way too good at reading him.

"'Lot on my mind," he said. "Sorry." At least he wasn't lying to her... just conveniently leaving out large parts of information. "A few big surgeries coming up." _One of them my own, _he wanted to add.

"Okay," she said, not quite buying into his explanation but deciding not to push it. "So how's your life been? Feel like we've been so sucked up into all of my dad's problems that we haven't really talked."

"You know what I like, Kate?"

She smiled at him, expecting a sweet answer or something that would make her blush.

"No, what?"

"That you call him 'my dad' now. Sounds good."

"Yeah, I guess," she frowned. "It's hard to say to him, though."

Jack nodded. He had family issues of his own. She didn't need to explain.

"Well you should. You know, with all of this going on. You should tell him how you feel."

She gave him a puzzled glance. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

He hadn't failed to notice the signs she had displayed that night– her fingertips on his thigh, her body turned to his, arm propped on the back of the couch.

It would be so easy to kiss her...

"You know, I think I can finally tell a certain someone how I feel about him..." she trailed off. "And he's not my dad."

Jack might have been distracted, but he wasn't _that _distracted.

"Does his name happen to be Jack?" he joked, catching the glint in her eye, feeling his heart beat begin to race.

Setting her wine glass on the coffee table, Kate wrapped her hands in his, looking at him as intensely as he could remember.

"I think I wanna give this a try. Us. Now that everything's over with Sam, well, with you and Sam, anyway. I think it could work."

Just a week ago, he would've been over the moon. A chance with Kate was all he'd wanted from the beginning– that, and for Sam to live.

"That's not telling me how you feel about me, Kate," he teased, poking her side when her jaw dropped. "After all those times you gave me nothing? I can't let you off _that _easy."

"Fine," she laughed. "If you're gonna make this more mortifying than it already is..."

"Of course I am."

Maybe flirting like a pair of 15-year-olds would temporarily distract him.

"I had my guard up, Jack. Now it's down. I like you. Is that enough?"

"Not very descriptive, but I guess I'll take it..."

She leaned forward, searching his eyes, a small smile on each of their mouths that told her they both knew what was going to happen, before she closed the inch between them. This kiss wasn't out of desperation or relief; she wasn't clinging onto him because she had to. She just wanted to.

He returned her kiss happily, turning off his mind as best he could and letting his body take control instead. They were a mix of mouths, her tongue sneaking out to meet his lightly, chills running down her back where his hands met.

Kissing Kate was better than he had often imagined. He played scenarios in his head, picturing where or how it would happen, how they would be breathless and caught up in each other. This was better. This was real. Her lips were really against his, their torsos touching, her hands perched on his shoulders. He could feel her hair brushing against his face and neck every time her head moved, could count the number of freckles that dotted her cheeks if he wanted to.

Kate wasn't sure how long they laid on the couch, but had forgotten how good it could feel to be pressed up against someone, his hands in her hair, kissing her so thoroughly, like there was nothing more important in the world. That peculiar blend of nervousness and pure excitement churned in the bottom of her stomach, like she was riding a roller coaster. Every shift of his hands, from her waist to the outlines of her thighs, and it panged again. When he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a playful bite, she drew in a shaky breath.

She should listen to Sam more often, she thought.

When her mouth moved from his lips to his neck, her hands wandering to his shirt, Jack realized they were in dangerous territory. He couldn't go through with anything as serious as sex without telling her about his plans to donate a portion of his liver to Sam.

He'd never dealt well with a guilty conscience. She deserved to know.

* * *

Up next: Kate's confused, Jack feels guilty, and Sam is caught in the middle!


	17. Good Guys

Thanks for your nice reviews. You guys have really stepped up lately! And I'm sick, so leave me something to make me feel better. :)

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Nice Guys

"Wait," Jack whispered, looking into Kate's confused stare after he broke from their kiss.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin, Jack," she joked, propped on his chest. "'Cause ya know, I think this is okay..."

He laughed despite the facts and potential fight he faced.

"No, it's just – what about Sam?"

Kate rolled her eyes and sat up. This wasn't what she pictured herself doing with Jack by now.

"I know you and my dad have a good relationship, and I appreciate that, but I'm _pretty _sure he has nothing to do with this."

"Is he doing alright?"

Kate pouted. "Can't we talk about him... later?"

She almost said 'after,' he thought...

If what he was about to tell her wasn't so serious, Jack would've brushed by the whole thing and let Kate's idea come to fruition.

_Please, please, let there be a rain check, _he thought.

"You didn't leave him by himself, did you? It's his first night home, I don't want him trying anything stupid just because there's no one there to yell at him."

"Seriously? Can't something not be about Sam for once? Sorry if that sounds selfish, but it would be nice if it was just the two of us. Doesn't that sound appealing at all?"

Jack groaned. "Of course it does. You have no idea how much I want that."

Her hand inched up his thigh and Jack laughed at her boldness.

"Just give me some peace of mind. I'm one of those doctors who can't let go of his patients."

Kate huffed. It was cute, Jack thought. "_Marcia's _with him, if you must know."

"Ahh, the elusive Marcia," Jack said, forgetting for a moment that Kate might hate him in only a few moments.

"You're weird," Kate said, picking up her wine glass again and swallowing the remnants. "You stopped _that,_" she pointed to the couch, "so we could do this? Talk about my dad?"

"Not entirely," he sighed, resting his head on the back of the couch, unable to face her. "I just... I'm probably not the one who should be telling you this, but I didn't want us to get any further and have you hate me more than you already will..."

Creases frowned into her forehead, Kate rested a hand on his leg. "Spit it out Jack. I don't like to wait."

"There's a match for your dad. We found him a liver."

"Jack, that's fantastic!" she said with enthusiasm, jumping from her seat on the couch. It was the most animated he'd seen her in a long time. "Why shouldn't you tell me?"

"I, uhh, well I just thought Sam might want to instead," he lied. It broke his heart that Kate was practically jumping up and down in his living room, excited for her father.

Maybe she would react positively, Jack thought. Maybe, for once, she wouldn't make a big deal about something. He was trying to do something nice, he reminded himself. There was no reason for her to punish him.

"When's the surgery? Doesn't it have to be soon? So the liver will... keep and whatnot? How did UNOS find him a liver so fast? I thought he was pretty far down on the list."

Jack shook his head. "UNOS didn't find him a match, Kate. It's a living donor. It's a perfect match."

"A living donor? I wasn't a match, so who the hell does that leave? Marcia? He hardly knows her!"

From the minute they'd been introduced, Jack figured out that Kate was a sharp woman. Normally she could put two and two together. Why couldn't she do it now so he didn't have to do it for her?

Jack stood from the couch and caught Kate's wrists lightly in his grasp. "It's not Marcia. It's me."

Kate shook her in confusion. "...What?"

He kept her wrists in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin.

"My liver is the match."

"You're telling me you're donating part of your liver to Sam? Can you even _do _that? You're his doctor!"

"I _was _his doctor," he reminded her. "Now I'm just Jack."

Pulling away from him, Jack thought he saw relief in her eyes.

"I won't let you do this," she said. "There's no reason for you to be the one."

While Kate thought he was zoning out the past few hours, in reality Jack had been constructing comebacks in his head. He knew she would fight him on this and wanted to be prepared. One moment's hesitation and she would walk all over him, destroying any chance he had of making her okay with the transplant.

"You know as well as I do that he's going to be on the UNOS list for way too long. There's no one else. This is the way it needs to be done."

She sank back into the couch. "It's too dangerous."

"It's dangerous," he agreed. "But not nearly as much as letting him sit on that list, laying in his hospital bed waiting to die."

Her head snapped up and Kate finally met his eyes. "You think that's what I want for him?"

"'Course not. I think you want what's best for him, but you just don't see my donating as being that."

Resting her forehead in her hands, Kate sighed. "And what about what's best for you?"

"I want to do this. That's enough."

"So you two just went behind my back and made this little plan and decided you'd eventually have to tell me about it?"

He was afraid Kate would feel betrayed or inadequate in some respect. He didn't want her to think that because she wasn't able to donate to Sam, he'd jumped in, wanting to save the day and steal Sam's attention.

Jack sat down next to her, keeping his distance. "I snuck around behind both of your backs. I started getting tests done the day after we found out you weren't a match. Sam didn't know anything about it. I just told him today, and believe me, he put up just as much of a fight as you are."

"He's okay with this?" she asked, and Jack could practically see her blood boil. "He's going to let you do this, as if you haven't already done enough?"

"Stop it," he said, the words coming out more harshly than he'd intended. "I get that this is hard for you. But this is what's going to happen. Sam's okay with it now, I'm more than okay with it, and sorry, but you really can't do anything to stop it."

The silence between them was heavy and awkward, similar to the long pauses that plagued their conversations when they met.

Finally, "So you haven't thought of all your other patients, how they're not going to have a surgeon for awhile? What if something goes wrong?"

Jack shrugged. "_You_ were ready to lay down on that table the day you found out about Sam's failing liver," he snapped. "You didn't care about the dangers and didn't even question it. Save the lecture."

"Oh, I'm a doctor, I know everything," Kate mocked. "Sorry, I forgot."

Fighting to keep his frustration under control, Jack tensed his fists, feeling his jaw clench in automatic response. He knew he would get angry.

"Why is it so bad that I want to do this? Don't you get it? Sam won't have cancer anymore. He'll be in remission and should be fairly healthy. That's the bottom line."

Hearing no response, Jack finally looked Kate's way, seeing her dig through her purse to retrieve her cell phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Sam," she said curtly as she dialed a quick succession of numbers.

_Oh God, _Jack thought. _This is gonna be good._

Sparing a greeting, Kate launched into her speech.

"Why didn't you tell me that Jack is giving his fucking liver to you? Did that somehow strike you as unimportant? Did you think, 'Oh, maybe I'll tell her an hour before I'm wheeled into the OR?' Did you think I would be okay with this?"

She set the phone to speaker, and Jack received the pleasure of hearing their conversation.

"Jesus, shut up for a minute, will ya?" said the tired voice.

"Fine," Kate said tersely.

"Now, as I'm sure Jack has already explained to you, we've talked about the implications of this. I wasn't sure I wanted him to go through with something so serious either, but I can't let this pass by. Let the man do it if he wants to do it. He knows how much we both appreciate him."

Jack snorted. Not at the moment.

"I can't even describe how mad I am right now," Kate said to Sam, who sighed in what Jack assumed was frustration.

"Mad? You're mad that Jack wants to help save my life? Yeah, he's already done a lot for me, for both us. He's not showing off, Kate. It's called being a good human being. Now let him."

Jack shifted closer to the phone so Sam had a prayer of hearing him. "That's what I tried to say!"

"Shut up," Kate said. "I really think you get a kick out this. And if you really wanna know, I don't think you've thought this through."

"I have!" Jack said, not sure how many different ways he could rephrase his points. "The surgery's gonna happen. I'm prepared. Sam's prepared. You need to be too."

Kate threw her hands up. "Don't you realize that I'm the one who's in the terrible situation? I know I don't have cancer, and I didn't have to operate on Sam or anything like that, but I'm the one who's gonna be sitting in the waiting room, worrying about both of you. It might sound selfish, but I'm the one who's gonna be affected if something goes wrong."

Jack sighed; he understood how she felt, but there was nothing he could do about it. Part of him was touched she was so concerned for his safety.

"Nothing's gonna go wrong–"

"Oh, he's a psychic, too, did you hear that dad?"

"Yeah, I heard it," Sam said tiredly. "I'm gonna go now if that's okay. I'll let the two of you fight it out. Jack, you call me and we can get this thing scheduled."

Jack told Sam he would do that, thankful that he and Kate's fight was no longer on display.

They were quiet again, though this time not awkwardly so. Was it possible that Kate had no more words?

Daringly, Jack snuck his hand out and rested it on top of hers. She didn't pull away.

"I know you don't like this," he started, unsure where he'd go from there. He hadn't planned what to say _after_ she was done arguing with him. "But I really, really want you to be okay with it. Sam and I are both gonna be okay, I promise."

Kate nodded, forcing back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "The match is really perfect?"

Relieved, Jack smiled. "It's pretty perfect, yeah."

"And the surgery's really as safe as you say it is?"

He nodded. "We'll have the best transplant team there is... I know this will be hard for you, and I know I can't stop you from worrying, but try to not let all of the 'what could happens' outweigh all of the positives. Good things are gonna come from this," he told her.

Kate agreed. "I wish this would've happened differently. I wish you would've told me you were doing this from the beginning."

He faced her. "Didn't want to get your hopes up. And you probably wouldn't have let me go through with it, by the way," he joked, glad to see her crack a smile.

"True..."

She snuggled up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and lacing her fingers through his. Jack wrapped his arm around her shoulder and let her fall to his chest.

"Are we okay?" he hesitated. Their time together was brief– what the hell had they been before?

When her hand eventually crept to the side of his face, running her fingers up and down his scruffy cheek, he knew that they were.

"Yeah. We're okay." She leaned up and Jack searched her eyes for signs of deceit. This felt too easy.

"Well aren't you gonna kiss me?" she laughed, cupping the sides of his face before pulling his head down to hers.

He kissed her, thankful that the night was ending better than he anticipated, grateful for the soft lips pressed against his.

Kate pulled away and let out a long, content sigh.

"Why do you have to be such a good guy?

* * *

Up next: Surgery is scheduled and Jack and Kate try to settle into a routine, but have some difficulties.


	18. The Week Before

So sorry for the long wait between updates. Your reviews have been great, please continue them!

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

The Week Before

Jack had cleared his surgical schedule for several weeks after his operation. He had one week of work left to mull over the possible complications that could come of his surgery, but knew regardless of his thoughts, he would never let Sam down.

Right now, he told himself, he wasn't acting like a doctor. He wasn't using the facts that he knew – that he was healthy, that the procedure was relatively safe and he would most likely recover well – to his advantage.

Instead, he thought of biliary leakage, obstruction, bleeding, portal vein stenosis and every other malady that could possible affect a liver donor.

And then there was Kate, who he had to be cool and relaxed around. She was nervous enough for Sam, and when Jack was added to the equation, she became impossible to be around.

They weren't technically together. They hadn't even had 'the talk' yet, and Jack thought with the impending surgery, Kate didn't want to get into anything too serious. The same thing had run across his mind; what if something went terribly wrong and he didn't recover? What if Sam died?

He'd already had to deal with Kate's tears on several occasions, once when they were in a movie theater and the main character's father died from cancer, and another time as they were eating lunch in the hospital cafeteria and she simply saw someone else crying. Jack cursed himself for not researching the movie more, or taking her outside of the hospital for lunch, in the regular world where peoples' emotions were a bit more in check.

* * *

"Haven't I seen this before?" he asked Kate, fingering the hem of her light green top.

Swinging her legs over his lap and her arm over the back of the couch, Kate rolled her eyes playfully.

"You've seen everything I own, Jack. Remember the whole 'came out here on a whim' thing? I only have one suitcase with me, and therefore only one suitcase full of clothes. Pretty limited options."

"That's not true," he started. "I most certainly have not seen _everything _you own."

She smacked him lightly on the chest for his insinuation, wondering if she should bypass the conversation or if he would grow tired of her soon because she hadn't slept with him.

"You've seen… some."

Asking a woman why she wouldn't sleep with you was a delicate subject, Jack thought. He couldn't come right out and ask what the holdup was, although he suspected she was waiting until after the surgery. He groaned internally – it would be a long time before he had recovered enough to be able to do _that_.

"I just … what are we waiting for, exactly? Do you need me to bust out the candles and a Sinatra CD?"

His comment earned him another smack, and he lightly grabbed Kate's wrists to defend himself.

"Not to sound insensitive or anything. You seem to be comfortable with me, that's all. It seems like you might want to?"

Jack was right. She'd plenty enjoyed fooling around with him. She desired him, certainly, and would have no qualms or moral debates about sleeping with a man she liked so much under normal circumstances.

It was the fact that even with her job, she wasn't so sure she could remain in LA if Sam didn't make it through the surgery or if his cancer spread and he ended up dying from it. And if Jack ended up hurt in some way from it…

She looked uneasy, and Jack pressed a palm to the side of her neck, stroking the soft skin he found.

"It's okay. I think I know what this is about."

"It's not all about the surgery if that's what you're thinking. There's just a lot that could change, and fast and I don't wanna rush into something. Or if heaven forbid something happens to you…"

Maybe a healthy dose of reality would work for his case.

"It could," he told her. "But there's no use in making this week miserable and contemplative and way too serious."

"Aww," Kate mumbled, scooting forward until she was sitting on his lap, her hands perched on his chest, "you just wanna get in my pants."

He relaxed into the back of the couch, accepting her kiss and wrapping his arms lazily around her torso. "Can you blame me?" he mumbled against her lips, pulling at her legs until they were wrapped around his hips, tracing the skin on her lower back and inching her shirt upward.

Kate sighed pleasantly and decided to give in to Jack's agenda. In truth, she didn't have much of a plan when it came to sleeping with him. Maybe they'd just needed to have a conversation about it, even if it was a short one. Maybe there was a little part of her that wondered if he liked her as much as she liked him, and it needed to be hushed.

Whatever the reason, her doubts were quieted.

She sat up, pulling her shirt over her head, seeing Jack's eyes widen in surprise. It wasn't completely unfamiliar territory, but she had never displayed such overt behavior with him.

"This wasn't my plan, to sweet talk you into sleeping with me. I was just joking."

Jack had never come across as desperate or overbearing, but had managed to show her how much he wanted her. It was the way he touched her, how he took his time, the way he seemed to be getting as much out of it as she did.

"It wasn't anything you said," she insisted, grinning wickedly, running her fingertips over his flat stomach and down to his belt buckle. "You've been incredibly patient, Dr. Shephard."

He groaned, partially in response to the nickname, the rest because of her roaming hands.

"What caused the change of heart?"

"Jack," she whispered wittily, "can we talk about this later?"

He shrugged his shoulders in mock deliberation. "If you insist."

She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, grinding her pelvis into his for added effect. "Oh, I do."

He picked her up easily and ran to the bedroom with her limbs wrapped around him. She laughed at the absurdity of it all when he dropped her on the bed dramatically, crawling over her and attaching his lips to her neck.

* * *

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

Sam sat in his easy chair, surveying his scribbled-on crossword puzzle.

Kate flushed, embarrassed to return to Sam's in the morning when it was clear she hadn't come home the night before.

"Hey," she managed, fleeing to her bedroom to compose herself.

"Wait a minute," Sam barked, standing slowly from the chair.

For a moment, Kate felt like she was in high school again, being reprimanded by a strict parent for staying out past curfew. It humored her to think about what Sam's parenting style might have been like when she was younger.

"Where were you?"

"Dad," she blushed. "I…"

"That's what I thought," he grinned. "'Bout damn time."

If possible, she blushed harder, tucking her hair behind her ear, self conscious. She and her mother had been close, but had never reached the point where sex became a comfortable topic of discussion. She didn't see how it would be any different with Sam.

"Not that it's any of your business–"

"Sure it is!" he said cheerfully. "If you hadn't come out here looking for _me_, and if _I_ wouldn't have had cancer and needed a spinal surgeon, then you never would've found Jack… you see how this works?"

Kate laughed. She wasn't going to discuss her sex life with Sam, but it was nice to know that if he was going to give her a hard time, at least he was happy about it.

"Where's Jack?"

"Work," she muttered, noticing that the mention of his name had sent a flash of the night before through her.

She didn't regret her sudden decision to sleep with him. If there was anything to regret, it was that they hadn't done it sooner.

* * *

"Hands off," she laughed, peeling Jack's arm from around her lower hip.

"You act like we're being indecent," he argued, opting to hold her hand instead. "Is _this _okay?"

After their discussion the day before, Jack had insisted on taking her shopping to expand her puny LA wardrobe. So far he'd had her blushing while they strolled the outdoor mall, more concentrated on where his hands were than the clothes in the window displays.

Kate raised her eyebrows at him. "Yes, Jack, this is fine. I wouldn't have imagined you as being so touchy-feely in public, that's all."

"Think everyone knows that you're mine?"

"Yours, huh?"

He hadn't thought how territorial the comment had sounded before it slipped from his mouth, but he wanted there to be some truth in it.

"Well, you know what I mean. Just that you're with me."

There was no doubt what he was getting at and managing to avoid, but Kate feigned innocence.

"With you? As in…"

Jack stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, releasing her hand. "Hey, look at that," he pointed to a mannequin in a blue dress, "that would look great on you. Let's go in."

Kate tugged on his arm and shot him a look.

"Are you really gonna make me say it?" he whined.

She leaned forward to give him a peck on the lips. The day-old scruff on his chin scratched her face and their kiss lingered.

"Fine, I need to know 'what we are,' and 'where we're going' and if I should consider us 'together,'" she laughed.

The joke provided a good cover for her slight insecurity. The thing about starting relationships, she'd always thought, was knowing if the other person's feelings matched hers. She'd had a hard time in the past even expressing those feelings in the first place.

She was fairly certain that Jack had more intent than just to sleep with her. He'd pursued her for a long time, but there would always be those doubts tucked away in her mind, wondering if he wanted the same kind of relationship as she had recently discovered she did.

"What we are? I would say we're… together, exclusive. Boyfriend and girlfriend," he laughed. "However you wanna put it."

Kate hugged him to her side.

"Okay, now that we've gotten that uncomfortable conversation out of the way, I believe you've brought me here so I could buy some clothes…"

"Lead the way. I've got my card ready."

Kate frowned. "I didn't expect you to buy me anything, Jack."

He laughed. "Oh, I'll be spending some money. A lot, I hope."

He nodded toward a store with a display full of lacy bras and panties and sheer nighties.

She raised her eyebrows and pulled him toward the store. "I'll accept that offer."

* * *

Up Next: The transplant.


	19. The Rise and Fall

I know I've been bad and not updated, but hope I made up for it and you're still interested. Please leave a review! Hope everyone's holidays were good.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

The Rise and Fall

"But I'm so hungry," Jack whined, flopping back onto his living room couch dramatically. The next morning was the transplant, and Kate already dreaded having to take care of both Jack and her father. If Sam was going to be as whiny as Jack, she didn't know if either of them would make it out of her care alive. If they made it out of surgery in the first place.

"You know you can't eat anything," she told him for the second time that night. "They said you could have water though, or ice chips. Do you want either of those?" She fluffed the pillows behind his head to give him more support. Sam had been admitted to the hospital that morning because he'd needed several more tests before the operation than Jack.

Jack rubbed his eyes. "Ice chips if it's not too much trouble. Sorry, I get cranky when I'm hungry. I know you're already stressed out enough."

Lifting the ice cube tray from the freezer, Kate found a hammer in the junk drawer, placed the cubes in a plastic bag and began crushing them. "And you're not stressed out too?" she yelled over the noise. "Not that I don't think everything's going to turn out fine, but you probably have more reason to be scared than I do."

He didn't need to know how freaked out she was, though she suspected it wasn't much of a secret. And if Jack had any uncertainty about the surgery, he hadn't shown it, at least not in front of her. "I trust Dr. Holland and Dr. Cubert. They're both excellent. We'll both be fine. It's the recovery I'm worried about."

Maybe Jack was a little more worried than that. OK, so he was pretty worried. But his worry would do nothing but make Kate worry more. And he didn't want that.

Tossing the bag of ice chips toward him, Kate sat down on the couch. "You'll have me to take care of you," she smiled. "Both of you." She squeezed his thigh and laid her head on his shoulder. "But I still think that Dr. Holland's a bitch."

Jack cackled, surprising her. "What?" she asked.

He waved his hand in front of him, trying to dismiss the behavior. "Nothing, it's just... I thought the same thing when I dated her."

"What?" she asked again. "You didn't think that was something worth mentioning, oh, I don't know, three months ago? You dated her? She's pretty Jack, but come on, you could do better. And nicer."

"Clearly," he smirked, pinching her arm, leaning in for a kiss but earning a smack instead. "Hey! It was like, five years ago and it was nothing serious. She was too much bitch for me to handle. You're on a much more manageable level. And you're much, much hotter," he added, though by the glare she was giving him, he suddenly wished he'd never said anything.

"Oh, I could be a real bitch if I wanted to. Wanna see?"

"No thanks," Jack said meekly. "I'm serious though. You mean much more to me than she ever did. More than anyone else in my life."

Wrapping one arm around his torso, she glanced up at him from her place on his shoulder. "That's sweet, Jack. And I feel the same way. But you're sure she's not some crazy person who's waiting for her revenge? You're sure she won't let the scalpel, oh, I don't know, just _slip _a little?"

Jack glared at her and rolled her eyes, but was thankful for the distraction. He knew Kate was kidding. "She's a medical professional. And Dr. Cubert will be there too. And many other doctors and nurses," he added. "It was a very civil breakup."

Kate sighed. She thought she would be mad hearing about Jack's past, but having already met one of the women gave her a sense of relief. Dr. Holland was nothing to compete against. (But if they did compete, Kate would certainly win.)

Jack sprawled on the couch, lying his legs across her lap. "OK, let me hear it. I want stories of your past. And no more of this 'I don't really have boyfriends' thing. I don't believe it."

That story was kind of true, Kate thought. She'd never let anyone hang around as long as Jack had, and that wasn't saying much. A few months was hardly a dating record for many people. "I'll just say that you should feel very lucky, and very honored," she added with a coy look, "that I've let you stick around this long."

Jack clutched his chest and grinned. "I do indeed feel honored. Of course," he started, sitting up and brushing his hands at her waist, "there was quite an obstacle course to get through before you'd even let me near you."

Gliding her fingertips under the hem of his t-shirt sleeves, she agreed. "I'm just challenging." She brought her lips to his, overwhelmed by how happy just a few words could make her. Of course, as it had since Jack volunteered for the transplant, the feeling only made her wonder how she could survive without him.

Pulling out of the kiss briefly, she took his face in her palms. Neither of them liked mushy, romantic stuff, but there was a time and a place for everything, she thought. She had to thank him, before she lost the courage. "Jack, I... You'll never know how much this means to me, to Sam. It's the most unselfish thing anyone could ever do for us. Please don't forget that or make light of it."

When he brushed his index finger across her lips to shush her, Kate thought she'd said something he didn't want to hear. "That's just what you do for people you love, OK? You do anything."

The air left her chest. She felt crushed, delirious even, in the most delicious way imaginable. He loved her. "I... Jack I–"

A warm smile stretched across his mouth. "I know."

"I do. I love you," she said, feeling much more confident this time. "And not just because of what you're doing–"

Again his finger was pushed lightly to her lips. He smirked. "I know," he said before connecting their lips again.

She loved how he tangled his hands through her hair, how his touch was rough but gentle, like he was trying to hold her in place but afraid she would break at the same time. He draped his body over hers and lifted her hands over her head, holding them in place while he continued to kiss her. He cradled himself between her legs and dropped his warm mouth to her neck, a certain precursor of theirs.

Their hands roamed and Kate asked, breathlessly, "Should we be–"

His hand sneaked to the button of her jeans as his lips attacked the sensitive spot just behind her ear. He huffed jokingly. "I'm not broken yet."

* * *

_That _morning had arrived. Sam shot awake, though he had slept on and off to begin with. He glanced at the clock in his overnight room. Three hours until surgery, and he already felt exhausted. Maybe that was because he needed a new liver, or from the chemo or radiation. Or maybe he was just wearing out. He prayed to God that this worked. It had to.

The distinct sound of his stomach rumbling caused him no notice. His parched mouth couldn't garner any attention. He stared at the clock. And waited.

Kate found him that way an hour later, after they'd gotten Jack registered. Jack was waiting a few rooms down, just as anxious as the older man. He'd begged Kate to get one of the nurses to wheel him into Sam's room, but she'd told him no, not until she'd been able to talk to her dad for a few minutes.

"Morning," she said, putting on a casual smile even though she was feeling anything but. He nodded. "So..." she hesitated, noticing his foul mood. She expected nervousness, not anger. "Ready?"

Sitting up, Sam grunted. "Guess so. Hope so." Kate reminded herself that it was the voice of a very sick man who had been through more than most people could handle. "This doesn't have to be some big sappy moment, you know," he finally said after Kate had taken a seat in the bedside chair.

She grinned at the hint of regular Sam coming through. "I know. It won't be. We can both be a little unemotional." It would be too easy to end the conversation there, however much she wanted to. Apparently he expected her to continue. "But, uh, I wanted to say how much I appreciate you dealing with me and accepting me when you didn't have to. You could've sent me on my way, and I probably would've eventually been OK with it, but you didn't, and I'm glad. I know this was a big mess and I forced you into some things you didn't want–"

He raised his hand to stop her. "I _thought _I didn't want those things. You managed to change that. And I guess that's what I want to say. Even if this doesn't work out... or whatever happens, I'm sure I'd be dead now if it wasn't for you, kid."

They shared a smile, both glancing away from the tears that appeared in each other's eyes.

A rap on the metal doorway interrupted them as a nurse pushed Jack into the room in a wheelchair. "Don't know why I couldn't walk myself," he grumbled before accepting Sam's handshake.

Kate listened to their conversation. She admired both men, but laughed at their seriousness and short, to the point sentences. They sounded like cavemen.

"You're a good, honest guy," she heard. "And not that I should have to warn you, but you better take care of Kate, in case..."

The younger man nodded. "Of course. But I'd rather have you around to remind me instead."

No more than five minutes later, the nurse had come back to collect Jack and another to prep Sam for the surgery. Kate wiped away the tears on her cheeks and kissed Sam. "See ya soon."

He gripped her hand. "Hopefully in about 12 hours." After Sam was wheeled away, she gave herself a few precious moments to compose herself before going to see Jack.

He was as vulnerable looking as she'd ever seen, lying there in a gown like that, staring at a blank space on the wall. His eyes shifted to hers when she entered.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She went to his side, gripping his hand as she'd done with her father. He could see the tears in her eyes. They made him want to cry, too. He couldn't do that. "It's gonna be fine," he breathed, hugging her against him.

"What if it's not?"

"I– I can't answer that. But it will be. We'll both be fine," he repeated, as much for himself as for her.

She crushed her lips against his in a long, drawn-out kiss. His hands gripped her shoulders so tightly he thought he might have left his handprints.

"They took your dad?" he asked after they parted.

She nodded.

"Guess I'm next."

She nodded.

* * *

Dr. Holland let out a deep breath, as she did before every surgery. She looked at the man lying on the table, unconscious, all kinds of IVs running into him. Then she took the phone and called over to the connected surgical suite, where Dr. Cubert was with Jack Shephard.

"Ready?" she asked the older surgeon. She glanced through the tiny glass windows and saw a nurse holding the phone up to his mouth.

"Already started."

Dr. Holland called out for the correct scalpel, let out another deep breath, praying that Sam Austen's weak body would make it through the surgery. Then she made the first incision.

* * *

Up Next: Guess.


	20. Jolt

Thanks so much for your reviews. Just a few chapters left, so keep them coming to keep me motivated!

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Chapter Twenty

Jolt

Twelve hours was a long time. It was enough time to complete half of every crossword puzzle in the small book she'd brought with her, finding her mind too distracted to get through them. It was enough time to field calls from Marc and even Jack's mother, whom Kate had never spoken to before.

She was easy to spot when she walked in the lobby. Her outfit reminded Kate of something Hilary Clinton would wear, in the nicest way possible. She looked stressed. The woman blew past her when she made a feeble attempt to introduce herself, making her way to the nurse's station.

Jack never spoke much about his parents. Kate had managed to get out of him that his father had died a few years before, and he'd said his relationship with his mother was a little sporadic but otherwise fine. Six hours into the surgery, and now she shows up to support her son?

Margo was worried, frantic even. Kate could see the older woman was frazzled. She settled her palm on her arm, directing her attention. Maybe calming Jack's mother down would calm her down, too.

"You must be Jack's–"

"He didn't tell me!" the older lady interrupted. "I had to find out from Marc that Jack was even having surgery. He asked me if I knew what Jack's room number was or something like that. Said he couldn't get through to you, who I must say I didn't know about either."

Kate breathed. "I'm Kate. I'm sorry we haven't been introduced before. I figured I would let Jack decide when the time was best."

Margo's eyes surveyed her, and suddenly Kate wished she'd paid a bit more attention to herself that morning when she'd gotten dressed. Had she even brushed her hair? Self consciously, she combed her fingers through her wild hair and looked back into Margo's eyes the best she could. She could see a bit of Jack in her.

Finally, Margo let out a terse, "You must be Jack's new... girlfriend."

Kate smiled pleasantly, for a moment forgetting about both her father and Jack, passing into girlfriend mode and trying to please Jack's mother. "I suppose you could call me that. I'm sorry we had to cross paths like this, but it's nice to meet you anyway."

Margo gave a curt nod. "Yes, well, any word on him?" Before Kate could answer, Margo had continued. "Why did he go and do this, anyway? He gets this from his father, you know," she said, glaring at her in what Kate suspected was anger toward her deceased husband. "Has to be perfect, be the hero, can't ever just let things be. And who's getting this chunk of his liver? An alcoholic? A child molester?"

"My father. And he's neither an alcoholic nor a child molester. He has cancer and needs a liver more than anything, and your son was unselfish enough to give that gift to him."

Kate did an internal victory dance at putting Margo in her place, but hoped she hadn't alienated her already. It appeared that things with Jack were getting pretty damn serious, and it would be easier for everyone if the two women could just get along.

Suddenly her phone vibrated and Kate held up a silent finger of apology as she answered it, fielding questions from Marcia, Sam's... well, she didn't know quite what Marcia was. Sam's _girlfriend _felt too weird. "We don't know that much," Kate explained. "A few of the nurses came out an hour or so ago and told us they were both doing fine but there's still a long way to go."

She let Marcia voice her fears and babble a bit longer. "Can I call you with an update a little later? Maybe when they're closer to finishing you could come to the hospital."

After snapping her phone shut, Kate looked to Margo, whose hands were pressed together in her lap to the point that her knuckles were turning white. "They really said Jack's OK?"

She nodded. "So far."

"Your father must have made quite the impression on my son to have him volunteer a liver."

Kate laughed. "Well, it all started when I came to Los Angeles to find my father – I had never met Sam, my dad, before. Anyway, I found him, then find out he's sick. He's supposedly terminally ill. No one will operate on him–"

Margo raised her eyebrows. "No one but Jack, correct?"

"I think you're sensing where this is going. You're sure you want to hear it all?"

The older woman nodded, and Kate could see her expression soften.

So Kate told her how she'd begged Jack to see Sam, how confident her son had been before the operation, how it had worked, and how Sam seemed to be more concerned about his matchmaking skills than his actual prognosis.

"And somewhere in all of this the two of you got together?"

Kate blushed, remembering the back and forth of their relationship before they had become a couple. It might have seemed obvious to an outsider, but to them it was like a soap opera. She wasn't sure about a romance with Jack until it had already happened, and was still waiting for something to uproot their happiness. Something like a liver transplant.

"It's OK if you don't want to tell me," Margo said, and Kate found her transformation amazing. "Some things are private, I understand that."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Plus, Jack will probably kill me if he finds out we're talking about him like this."

Jack's mother shifted in her chair and hesitated. "Can I let you in on a little secret?"

Kate froze. She wasn't sure it was the woman's place to be letting Jack's secrets out of the bag. She nodded anyway.

"He secretly enjoys it. Feeling important– part of why he became a surgeon, I think. But it goes deeper than that, and I saw it in his first marriage – he gives so much of himself sometimes that he forgets he's supposed to be getting something back. I'm his mother so of course I'm biased, but don't forget about him and what he might need."

Kate froze again. She wasn't completely surprised to find out Jack had been married, but nonetheless, because she'd never heard the words come out of his mouth, her shock was apparent.

"Oh no," Margo groaned. "That wasn't what I was trying to tell you, that he was married. I figured you knew. I just... wasn't thinking."

A nervous habit, Kate chewed on her fingernails, silently willing the older woman to judge her. She couldn't be angry with Jack while he was lying on a surgical table getting half of his liver removed, and couldn't expect him to let all his secrets flow so early in their relationship. But he'd told her he loved her – didn't secrets as big as a previous marriage usually make their way out before that?

"It's OK." Kate struggled with whether it would be appropriate to ask Margo about his ex-wife. Sensing that Jack wouldn't try to hide it when she would bring it up to him later, Kate decided it would be OK to follow through on her curiosity.

"How long have they been divorced? If you don't mind me asking."

Kate tried to do the math in her head. Jack had said he'd dated Dr. Holland about five years ago, but was that before or after the divorce?

"Oh geez," Margo sighed. "We've all tried to forget about the woman, believe me. It would've been about five or six years ago. Took a toll on him, let me tell you."

"Oh," Kate replied, satisfied she wasn't a rebound girl. "I didn't think it would be such a long time ago."

"They married when Jack was in the last year of medical school. It didn't last all that long, thankfully." Kate shot her a look. "I know that sounds terrible, but they just weren't right for each other."

"And after that? Has he dated... a lot?" She cringed after asking the question. It felt loaded.

Margo let out a frank chuckle and Kate could suddenly picture her own mother, sucking on a cigarette, her elbows resting on the countertop of the diner, making some lonely trucker laugh with her bitter humor. "Honey, you're the first one I've met."

* * *

Jack woke in recovery, at first unsure where he was. Was the surgery over already? It felt like he'd just gone under.

Satisfied that he must be awake and alive, the doctor in him was afraid to look down at the dressings, sure they were already bled through.

A blurry figure shook his arm lightly. "Dr. Shephard. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Do you need anything?"

"How's Sam?" he croaked, then realizing the figure was Trisha, the nurse he suspected had a crush on him.

He could make out her smile. "He's still in surgery. It takes much longer to replace a liver than to take a piece of yours out. Your surgery went as expected, very well. There were a few complications, more bleeding than normal, but nothing Dr. Cubert didn't get under control. How's your pain?"

Trisha reviewed his chart and adjusted his IVs, which Jack refused to look at.

He wasn't in pain, which he thought was strange. He felt weird, fuzzy and numb, like part of him was missing, though he supposed it was.

"It's OK. I feel terrible though."

"Nauseous?"

Jack nodded.

"As I'm sure you know, that's most likely from the anesthesia. There's this here," she pointed to a pink kidney-shaped basin on the rollaway tray, "if you need to vomit. There are ice chips on the bedside table if you need them, but I'm going to let you rest unless there's something else you need."

"What about... Kate?" he swallowed. "Can I see her?"

Trisha shook her head. "Not yet. Get some sleep and then you can have visitors."

* * *

Two hours later, Jack woke again and alerted Trisha. He needed more pain meds. He no longer felt numb, and it wasn't a good thing.

He watched her push the medication into his IV. "You should feel that pretty quickly, but let me know if it's not enough."

"Kate?"

Trisha was oddly silent. "I'm sure she'll be in soon enough." She ended with a smile, erasing the strange behavior from Jack's mind.

Moments later, as Trisha rearranged the angle of his bed so he could somewhat sit up, he saw a flash of long brunette hair. He smiled.

"Mom," he said, surprised as she strode through the doorway.

He accepted her brief hug as best he could in the bed. "Sweetie, I'm so glad you're OK. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Jack rolled his eyes, glad he was beginning to feel the medication take effect. He didn't know how many 'sweeties' from his mother he could take. "I'm sorry. But I'm fine. Just waiting to talk to Dr. Holland and Dr. Cubert."

Margo sat in the chair next to the bed, taking her son's hand in hers. "So to add to the list of things you haven't told me about, I met someone in the waiting room. Spent quite a bit of time with her."

Jack froze, momentarily horrified by the thought of Kate trapped for hours with his mother. "Yeah, about that... I didn't want to tell you until I was sure it was turning into something serious."

Margo nodded. "And by the looks of it, and by that I mean you donating part of one of your organs to her father, I'd say it's getting serious."

Jack nodded, thinking back to the day before and how easily he'd told Kate he loved her. The surgery gave everything a sense of urgency, of course, but he still meant it. He might've said it earlier than he normally would in a relationship, but he didn't regret it.

Just as he was becoming comfortable in his mother's presence, Kate appeared in the doorway, hair tangled, tears streaming out of her red, watery eyes and down her cheeks.

He felt a jolt. Something had gone wrong.

* * *

Up next: What happened to Sam?


	21. Commonalities

So sorry for the long time between updates. I have no good excuse, really. But please, show me that you're amazing, forgiving readers and leave me a review. Maybe I'll be better next time. :)

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

Commonalities

"They finished the surgery," Kate said, leaving Jack, confused and in pain, wondering why she stood before him looking so miserable. "I'm glad you're OK," she blurted out, grabbing his IV-free hand and pressing a kiss to it.

He knitted his eyebrows together, his uncertainty apparent. Kate wiped the tears from her cheeks while Margo excused herself from the room. "They said he won't wake up and he almost bled out in surgery and then he started clotting..."

As a doctor, Jack knew better than his girlfriend how weak Sam's body was. Typically, he wouldn't have recommended such drastic treatment for the man, but he wasn't an oncologist and he wasn't a transplant surgeon. That had been someone else's decision. The weeks of chemotherapy and radiation treatments had shattered his immune system, and the immunosuppressant drugs he would be given to fight off rejection would make him extremely prone to infection.

It would be an uphill battle.

He also knew he wasn't the best source of medical information for Kate right now, his brain hazy and close to succumbing to sleep from the dose of painkillers Trisha had just pushed. "He won't wake up?" he managed to croak out.

"Something about not reacting well to the anesthesia and he's not responding to the triggers they're giving him. He was supposed to have woken up by now, Jack."

Fighting the muddle, he wondered: if he was in Kate's position, what type of consolation would he want to hear– clinical doctor talk or supportive boyfriend talk? He chose the latter. "Give him a few more hours before you start to really worry."

Kate ran a palm over his short hair, something igniting within her. Jack needed someone too, someone more than his mother. He needed her. How was she supposed to be there for both of them? In the stress leading up to the transplant, she hadn't allowed herself to formulate a post-surgical plan. The two men were equally important to her. She felt stretched too thin, and the process had only just started.

Her father _or_ her boyfriend seemed to be the situation, when it needed to be her father _and _her boyfriend. Even boyfriend seemed like a trivial title. Jack was more than that to her, which was why seeing him lying in the hospital bed, looking miserable, was so difficult for her.

"I'm really glad you're ok," she said again, clasping onto his hand and bringing it her heart – where it belonged. "Your mom and I were going crazy out there."

Jack chortled. "And I'm glad I'm ok too. And Sam will pull through. He's too stubborn not to, you know that, right?"

Kate grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Taking a seat next to the bed, their conversation lulled and Kate noticed Jack's eyelids drooping as he fought to stay awake. She stood and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "You need to get some sleep. I'll leave you alone for a while."

He accepted her gentle kiss against his lips, but tugged at her hand as she turned away. "Just one more thing. You and my mom waiting around together for hours? How'd that go?" A grin tugged at his lips, although a little more subdued than normal.

As tempting as it was, now was not the time to bring up the depth of her conversation with Margo and that particular trait from Jack's past she had inadvertently revealed – that he had been married.

"It was... a little surprising, started out a kinda rough. But I like her, Jack. I think it went pretty well, considering the environment. She might have even liked me," she chuckled.

"What's not to like? Genuine, compassionate, beautiful–"

"You must be drugged to high heaven, Jack."

"No." His objection sounded similar to a whine, which amused her. She knew he wasn't quite with it and was getting more loopy by the minute, but she appreciated the sentiment. "I mean it. Sorry I didn't... sorry I didn't tell her about you. Because you're great and I love you and she should know about you and maybe we... maybe we could invite her over for dinner... or something–"

She pressed another kiss against his cheek, interrupting him. "Get some sleep, crazy."

It took him only a minute or two to doze off as she watched from the doorway, his transition seamless. She'd never been one to fall in love so quickly, or maybe ever, but as she saw his breathing slow and steady, she realized exactly why 'falling in love' was phrased as it was. She'd been flying, ridiculously happy with this man in her life. But seeing him like this and thinking of his long recovery, the ways it would change his life – it didn't take long before she hit the ground.

* * *

"_C'mon Poppy, talk to me," Sam urged, leaning across the counter of Sal's Diner, where she'd worked for the past few months. "You know she was nothing to me. Nothin' happened, promise."_

_The blonde raised her eyebrows doubtfully. "Sure as hell didn't look like nothin' to me, Austen. That floozy was hanging all over you. And you didn't seem to mind."_

_Sam grimaced. He was falling in love with Diane, but was having problems controlling his playboy lifestyle. He couldn't help it that women were so attracted to him. "Ok, maybe I could be a little more subtle," he agreed. "But you're the only one for me Poppy. You know that."_

"_Oh do I?" she asked, hands cocked on her hips. "I think you're going to have to prove it to me."_

_After a hard day's work at a new construction site, the red vinyl stool attached to the typical checkered tile called his name. He sat down at the counter and leaned on his elbows. "Let me take you out tonight."_

_She flashed a smile at him. "I work tonight."_

"_Of course you do. Ok, tomorrow night."_

_Diane took in a deep breath, contemplating his request. She wasn't an easy woman to win back. And that girl was a floozy. _

"_One – diner food doesn't count. You will take me somewhere nice, where I can dress up and order a nice bottle of wine."_

"_Fine–"_

"_Two – don't think because you bought me dinner that I'm going to sleep with you right away. That is all," she said matter-of-factly. _

_Sam sighed but tried to appear thankful for her decision. "You got it, Poppy."_

_Diane yelled back to her boss, who had shouted at her to get back to work. She wiped the counter down, smirking at him. "I really wish you'd stop calling me that."_

_Sam smiled. There was something about this one. Something about her made him believe in the prospect of love as he had not before. "No you don't."_

Sam floated, unsure of where or when he was, unable to focus on any of the flashes in his mind for long enough to determine their importance. But he hadn't dreamt of his Poppy in years, as much as he'd tried, especially since Kate had come into his life, a constant reminder of her mother – stubborn, sarcastic and strong, but with just enough of a feminine edge.

He tried to push through the barrier, whatever it was, he couldn't tell. But it resisted and he gave up. He was tired and wouldn't mind going back to those vivid dreams of Poppy. They were nice to relive.

Maybe he was imagining it, but he felt his hand being squeezed and heard the faintest of voices. Why couldn't he wake up?

_Sam was elated. He couldn't explain, couldn't even figure it out in his own head. But the feeling was caused by her, that much he was sure of. _

_He pushed open the door of Sal's, sank down onto the stool and waited for Poppy to make her appearance. She'd left giggling that morning, promising to have lunch waiting for him if he visited. _

_Somehow the powder blue dress and white apron she sported looked better on her today than ever. She wore a smile and her blonde hair flipped at the ends. 1978 was a great year, he mused. _

"_Hey, Poppy. Where's that patty melt you promised me?"_

"_Hold your horses. That's no way to greet a lady."_

_Sam made a spectacle of himself, showering her with attention and a greeting fit for a queen. When he'd finished, she slid the patty melt across the counter to him. Checking that her greasy boss, Ralph, wasn't watching from the deep corners of the kitchen, she leaned forward to kiss him. _

_He left half an hour later, smiling, committed to halting his playboy ways for this woman. He had no idea it would be the last time he ever saw her. _

No, he thought as he floated again. He did not want to remember things like that! His hand contracted again – someone was definitely gripping it. Ok, he thought. He could talk himself through this. Just move each finger, just a little, just try to make a fist. Just wrap your damn hand around hers!

Kate sighed, exhausted but far too anxious to sleep. She'd just checked on Jack and was assured by Trisha that everything was going fine. But Sam still hadn't woken up. It had been two more hours. Why weren't the doctors as worried as she was? He hadn't even _stirred_.

Marcia had come by, even after Kate's resistance. Marcia didn't belong there, she thought. She and her father were not that close. All the older woman had done was sit by the bed and stare at Sam, then asked Kate how Jack was doing. Then she'd left. What was the point of that, exactly?

So she gripped her father's hand, willing him to wake up. He looked peaceful, at least, that much she could see. He appeared much more relaxed than he had in the time since she'd met him. It was probably the sedative, but maybe the piece of the new liver was already working. Maybe he had hope.

"Any change?" she heard from the doorway, as she turned and saw Margo standing there, leaning against the doorframe. She looked as exhausted as Kate was.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing yet."

Margo approached Sam's bed, arms folded leisurely across her chest. "He looks determined, doesn't he?"

Kate wasn't sure how much of Sam's story she knew. She couldn't imagine the woman would know any more than what they discussed in the waiting room, but her words were comforting. Margo had a tough exterior, that much she could see. But she was also compassionate, and Kate wondered why Jack didn't have a closer relationship with his mother. What she wouldn't give to have that time with her own mother.

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?"

"Well," Margo sighed, gathering her purse and overcoat. "If he's anything like you I'll bet he makes it."


End file.
